Why I Would Never Get a Tattoo.

And it is not because I am scared of needles.

Photo by Harsh Aryan on Unsplash

The first time I ever saw a tattoo, it was on the forearm of my brother, bearing his latest girlfriend’s name.

“Shh, don’t tell mum.” He told me in a conspiratorial whisper.

I didn’t know what to say, but of course, I didn’t breathe a word of it to our mother. He skilfully crafted his explanation leading her to believe he had committed a heinous act, leaving her relieved that it was merely a tattoo.

Not many moons later, he had to have that girlfriend’s name tattooed over, in favour of a new name.

When I was a teenager tattoos were not as popular or widespread as they are today.

Tattoos when I was growing up, seemed to be limited to those in the navy, or tough guys.

I struggle to understand having something permanently engraved on your body, even though I fully appreciate the artistry and skill of tattoo artists and how it has evolved into a respected art form.

For all of my life, I have been an art lover, but I prefer to see it on a wall or as an installation rather than on my own body.

It is tempting to stare at tattoos on other people, but I try to be respectful, even though I guess that is part of the point…