The Postscript

Tattoos

Picture of Carrie Classon

Carrie Classon

June 5, 2024

I’m about the only person I know without a tattoo.

Well, this is not true. My parents don’t have tattoos, and I don’t think most of their friends do – although I’ve not done a close inspection. That would be hard to do, and probably not very polite.

But among people my age and younger, I’ve become something of an oddity, yet I can honestly say I’ve never considered getting one. This isn’t because I have anything against tattoos. I’ve seen some that were beautiful. But I’ve also seen some that read “Forever Young” or “No Regrets,” and I wonder if this will always be the case.

And that’s the problem.

I don’t think I’ve ever been sure enough of anything to ink it on myself permanently. I remember having a conversation with a man who had a lot of tattoos, and I expressed this concern.

“How do you know you’ll always think that way and want that on your arm?” I asked.

“Oh, I probably won’t!” he answered cheerfully. “But that’s not the point. The tattoo is a reminder of where I’ve been, not necessarily where I’m going.”

This made sense to me but didn’t solve the problem. I’ve gone through a lot of changes in my life, and I have a lot to say. I’m afraid I’d run out of available space in a hurry.

What if there was no writing space left and I still had years to go? I’d have to write very small, to make sure I had room for major life events. Since I have no idea how big each event will be – or how many of them I will have – this seems challenging.

And I honestly don’t mind not having a tattoo. I figure they are like every other kind of fashion and will come and go. If I manage to live long enough, not having tattoos will probably be cool, allowing me to be a very cool nonagenarian. I have that to look forward to.

Instead, when I am in Mexico, I go to a fellow who makes bracelets. He weaves them by hand and ties them onto my wrist. He will write anything I want (provided it is not too long) in the colors I choose. I imagine I would have had a tattoo reminding me of these same things – if I were not so cowardly.

I had one bracelet made that said, “Act as if.”

I was trying to remember to behave as if I was already the person I wished to be, not always waiting around for “someday.” When the bracelet did not seem to be doing the trick, I had another one made in a different color, and one more after that. Eventually I was wearing three bracelets. I have to say, I have been doing a much better job of living in the moment of late – although I’m not sure I can give the bracelets all the credit.

But bracelets are not tattoos and, when they eventually got shabby, I cut them off. Now I am back to a wrist without slogans, and that might be for the best.

Because once a reminder is with me long enough, it stops reminding me, and I suspect it would be the same with a tattoo. If I can’t rely on a bracelet for instructions, I don’t think a tattoo would help, either.

Instead, I take a long walk every day, and at some point, I am reminded that I am a very lucky person. And I start acting as if I am. With or without tattoos.

Till next time,

Carrie

Carrie Classon

is a nationally syndicated columnist, author, and performer. She champions the idea that it is never too late to reinvent oneself in unexpected and fulfilling ways. Learn more about Carrie and her memoir, “Blue Yarn,” at CarrieClasson.com.