Since my teenage years, I’ve loved piercings and tattoos. At sixteen, I got my first “temporary” tattoo, and by seventeen, I had pierced my tongue—without my parents’ permission. For my eighteenth birthday, I treated myself to my first real tattoo, and I’ve been hooked ever since. To me, tattoos are art on the human body, and I admire them no matter whose body they’re on. But I realize I might be in the minority.
When my parents discovered my tongue piercing, they went ballistic. My father even threatened to pull it off with pliers. I cried for days before finally removing it, and to this day, I haven’t replaced it. My tattoos, however, are mine forever. I cherish every single one, and as soon as one project is done, I’m already planning the next. Yet, time and time again, people feel the need to comment on my appearance. Why? What do they gain from it? Does it make them feel better? Frankly, I don’t care about their negative opinions. My choices are mine, and they shouldn’t concern anyone else.
“What will other people say?”
The most common question I hear is, “What will other people say?” About what – my tattoos? My choices? I don’t know how else to explain that I genuinely don’t care about anyone’s opinion but my own. Imagine how much better the world would be if everyone lived that way.
When I see someone with an expensive car, I don’t go around saying they should have bought something cheaper. The same principle applies to so many things. My point is simple: my body, my choice. If you don’t like it, that’s fine with me. Maybe I don’t like your nose or your boots, but you won’t hear me complaining about it.
“How will you look in your old days?”
Let me tell you: I’ll look awesome. Being old is a privilege, and I’ll be thrilled to live a long, colorful, and fulfilled life. Loose skin, vibrant tattoos, and all. Why would I care about my appearance when I have the joy of watching grandchildren grow or the comfort of retirement?
When people ask questions like this, it’s often because they can’t think of anything else to criticize. That’s fine—I’m just glad the world is slowly becoming more open-minded about self-expression.
“Where will you work?”
Growing up, people constantly told me that no one would hire me because of my tattoos. I proved them wrong. I’ve worked as a journalist and a Key Account Manager at two digital marketing firms. Now, I run my own business with my husband and work from home. It’s a dream come true, and no one asks that question anymore. They still make the occasional comment about my looks, but I’ve learned to brush it off. Even my parents have stopped lamenting my choices.
Live and let live
At the end of the day, I feel good, happy, and confident in my body. I love my tattoos and wouldn’t change a thing about them. I wish everyone could feel the same—especially those who can’t stand the sight of inked skin.
I’ve grown used to the disapproving looks from older generations, but I’ve chosen to live my life unapologetically. And that’s what I wish for everyone else: live your life and let others live theirs.
Next time you see someone with a tattoo, piercing, or anything else you don’t like, challenge yourself to see past it. Maybe even compliment them. You might be surprised at how it makes both of you feel. Strike up a conversation, and you might discover that you’re not so different after all.
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