Content Warning: Weird stuff. You've been warned.

Monthly Archives: February 2013

First of all, if you’re wandering in from Freshly Pressed, welcome and thanks for stopping by! Come in, have a cup of tea, and try not to pee on the carpet. No, really.

This is post is in response to a few commenters on last week’s post, who seemed to think that my disagreement with my parents’ beliefs  – and subsequent plea for acceptance – was equally as intolerant as their rejection of my sexuality. Some of those comments were mean and hurtful, and got deleted. It’s my blog. I don’t have to read angry stuff on my blog. (Plus, I looked, and youreanidiot@atleastyourdadisalive.com is not a real email address. You get a cookie for using the correct form of “you’re,” though.)

Some others I responded to, but not as in-depth as I would have liked. So here is the whole enchilada, as it were.

Lacey wrote:

I appreciate your honesty. I guess I’m wondering what tolerance looks like to you in the broader sense? Does it mean that people can no longer disagree without being ‘hateful?’ You say, “I will not accept mere tolerance” and I realize you are writing to a family member…but what about the bigger picture. Where is the line? By this logic, you are being intolerant of your Dad’s opinions. I do not mean to be offensive- its an issue I’ve been giving a lot of thought.

This is something that hits a personal spot for me. And I can totally see your point. If I had to boil my moral code down to a single sentence, it would probably be something along the lines of “No one should ever be forced to live according to beliefs they don’t agree with.”

Obviously, speaking in absolutes can get you into trouble – there’s always the devil’s advocate out there with the “Well, what if someone disagrees with the belief that bombing an orphanage full of handicapped children is wrong? According to your logic, that means they should be allowed to do it.” (No. Wrong. According to my logic, they are allowed to believe whatever they want to believe, but their right to bomb the orphanage does not overrule the children’s right live out the rest of their lives as in-one-piece and bombing-free as possible. Your rights end where another person’s begins.)

So I want to clarify something that seemed to cause confusion for a handful of folks, not all of whom were as polite and respectful as Lacey was: Never did I say I wanted my parents to stop being religious. Never did I say I would not love and accept my parents if they continued to live a religious lifestyle. In fact, I know full well that my parents will continue to live their lives they way they have for the past half a century or so. That is not the issue here.

It’s not the disagreement that is hateful. If my parents were to say, “We don’t understand what it’s like to be queer, we’re straight and that’s what makes us happy,” then that is a conflicting worldview with my own, which is roughly: “Living as a queer person makes me happy and brings me more fulfillment than living as a straight person does.” Those two ideas are in disagreement; however, neither one is hateful toward the other.

If my parents were to say, “We don’t understand what it’s like to be queer, because being queer is wrong and those feelings are sent from Satan, and everyone who is queer is disgusting and a bad person,” then not only is that a worldview that conflicts with my own, but is also actively hateful and discriminatory toward me.

Conversely, if I say, “I don’t get any enjoyment or fulfillment out of being religious, I’m atheist and that’s what makes me happy,” that may be in disagreement with my parents’ religious lifestyle, but it isn’t hateful. If I say, “I don’t get any enjoyment or fulfillment out of being religious, and people who do are crazy zealots and bad people,” then that is hateful and discriminatory toward them.

My parents’ faith brings them happiness. It brings them joy and fulfillment. It gives them a steady rock, a foundation on which to build their marriage. Why would I want to take that away from them? To say that, by asking them to reconsider their views on homosexuality, I am somehow forcing them to give up their entire faith life and religious identity… well, the term “throwing the baby out with the bathwater” comes to mind. If it makes them happy, then I am happy that they have it. I would never tell my parents – or anyone, for that matter – that it’s wrong to have religious views and they have to stop being religious.

But their rights end where mine begin, too. I have a right to live my life in the open. I have a right to make the decisions that are best for me, that make me happiest and bring me fulfillment. I have a right to protect myself from those that do me harm.

Even if it’s my parents.

At the heart of the matter is this: my parents and I, we don’t talk. I mean, we chat, but we don’t have meaningful conversations about the important stuff. And this journey I’m on, this path of self-discovery I’m walking down, is incredibly important to me. The fact that they don’t even want to talk about it – that they’d rather just pretend it didn’t exist so they can say they love me anyway – is fucking painful. I honestly think it’d be easier to deal with it if they hated me. Then, at least, I could convince myself that it wasn’t worth the effort. But I wrote last week’s letter because a part of me yearns to open up that dialogue, to state my case and make them see that it isn’t what they thought it was. To ask if they could ever love a daughter that was openly queer. To see if they’d come around.

And, if not, to walk away. Not because I immediately shut out everyone who disagrees with me, but because there comes a point where a relationship causes more pain than you can bear. Because loving myself means being strong enough to sever ties in order to stop hurting.

So there’s the heart of the matter. I can’t accept tolerance, because tolerance means We Don’t Talk About It. Tolerance means “Penny has a dirty little secret the family doesn’t talk about.” Tolerance means “Poor Penny is so misguided and such a sinner, too bad she’s going to hell, it makes me so sad because I love her so much.” Tolerance is “Penny posted on Facebook today about how much she loves her lady friend, and I felt it was my duty to tell her how wrong she is to be living like that and how I disapprove of it.*”

Meanwhile… acceptance means We’ve Talked About It, And We Don’t Agree, But We Respect Each Other. Acceptance means “I don’t understand why Penny lives the way she does, but we’re talking about it so I can try to see her side of it.” Acceptance means “This life makes Penny happy, and I trust that she is smart enough to make the choices that are right for her, and I will love her and be there for her in whatever way she needs me to be.” Acceptance would be “Penny posted on Facebook today about how much she loves her lady friend, and it’s kind of weird for me to read that but she’s an adult and I respect her.”

I don’t think that’s asking too much from a parent. I don’t think that’s asking too much from anyone who claims to love me. I am the only one who can decide what I need from the people in my life in order to feel loved – and I have the right to ask for that.

Whether or not I get it is an entirely different question.

 

*Expected results; mileage may vary


In addition to your regularly scheduled Friday programming, please enjoy this complimentary guest post I wrote for Consider the Tea Cosy.

Then go read all her other stuff. It’s awesome. That is all.


Dad:

I’ve had some time to think about the things you said to me, the day I told you I was bisexual. I’ve thought about what it means, and what you believe, and where I fit into that picture. I’ve come to a decision.

I assume by now you’ve shared the news with Mom, if not my sisters. (One already knows, I talked to her privately.) I don’t mind if you have, or if you choose to in the future. It’s not something I particularly need kept secret. In fact, that’s kind of the point.

I’m not writing this to disprove your religious beliefs, nor to tell you you’re wrong for believing them. My intent is not to break your faith in any way. However, in order to state my message clearly, there is something I need you to understand: I do not believe in your God. I do not share your faith.

Because of this, I cannot agree with statements made on the basis of faith alone. Telling me “It’s wrong because God says so” is not a valid argument to me, any more than “It’s wrong because I say so” – which, to be honest, is all I’m hearing in those statements. I am a grown adult, and I have the freedom and the right to make my own life choices.

I am choosing to live my life out of the closet. I am not ashamed of my sexuality.

I am choosing to explore my sexuality. I am not ashamed of my desires.

I do this with the full consent and blessing of my current partner, who understands there are certain things in life he simply cannot provide for me. He and I are communicating better than we ever have before, we are more respectful of each other than we ever have been, and embarking on this journey has done wonderful things to strengthen our marital bond. I do this not to escape my marriage, but to enrich it. I do this not to tear down our bond, but to build it up.

Ultimately, who I build relationships with and how my husband and I manage our marriage is none of your business. I am not interested in hearing how you think I am Doing Marriage Wrong.

But there is something I need you to understand: I will not accept mere tolerance. I am tired of hearing the message “Well, it’s not what we would choose for you, but it’s your life to live.” That statement tells me that you’re not going to stop me if you think I’m making a mistake, and you won’t try to have an open and honest conversation about it, but in your heart of hearts you will always carry condemnation and judgment toward me. You will always be waiting to say “I told you so.”

I have yearned my whole life for approval from you. I have yearned my whole life for acceptance. I have made myself miserable to the point of desperation, trying to squeeze myself into the rigid role of model child, trying to be this mysterious perfect daughter that you could love without reservation. But I have always failed – maybe not in your eyes, but certainly in mine. I feel I have not gained your acceptance or your understanding. I do not have your support in being myself and following my heart: merely your tolerance.

The time has come for me to ask for your acceptance. I realize, given your faith, what a monumental thing it is I ask of you. I am asking you to consider that the Church may have it wrong on this one. I am asking you to re-examine your beliefs.

I would not ask this of you if it did not matter. If I was comfortable believing that my feelings were wrong, I would not ask it. If I was comfortable lying to you about this part of my life, I would not ask it. If I was comfortable with discrimination dressed up as loving tolerance, I would not ask it.

But I am not comfortable with those things.

You were right when you said it was not wrong to be attracted to members of the same sex. I believe that. But I cannot accept that it is wrong to be in a relationship with someone of the same sex. To accept that would be to turn my back on a wide community of wonderful, loving people; a community of which I am a part. I cannot accept that falling in love can ever be a sin – and I cannot accept that expressing that love, exploring that love, could ever be sinful, either. There may be times when it can hurt, yes – people are imperfect and as such can hurt each other – but that does not make it morally wrong. The full experience of love, in its myriad of forms, is an inalienable human right.

So here it is: the crucial decision.

I respect your right to religious freedom. I respect your faith and your beliefs, though I do not agree with all of them. Because of this respect, I will not demand your acceptance – even if I could demand such a thing.

However, I also respect myself. I respect my right to choose how I live my life, and with whom. Because of this respect, I will not subject myself to the pain of discrimination and intolerance, even from those who love me. Because of this respect, I will choose to lead a life that brings me joy and fulfillment, and choose the friends and lovers and partners that support me on this path.

I would like to share my life of joy with you. In order to share it fully, I need to know that you accept the life I live, without judgment. Tolerance (“It’s ok to feel that way, but not to act on it”) is not acceptance. If you cannot offer acceptance, then I cannot continue to share my life with you. I will not edit and hide parts of my life to show you a face you approve of.

You must either love all of me, or none.


This one is for the lovers.
This is for chocolates on the pillow
and roses on the sheets.
This is for lovers of my lovers
and the lovers of me.

This one is for the forests.
This is for mist in the branches
and rain on the leaves.
This is for sunshine on my lovers
and the sunshine on me.

This one is for the streets.
This is for avenues where we arrive,
and roads where we leave.
This is a city for my lovers
and a city for me.

My heart sings for my lovers.
It sings moss on cobbled sidewalks
and the rainclouds match the beat.
This is a song for my lovers’ hearts
who sing back to me.

I plant gardens for my lovers.
I grow romance in the springtime
and in autumn, gather seeds.
This is a place for my lovers’ hearts
to grow wild and free.

I’ll make beds for my lovers.
We’ll burrow under afghans
and kiss under sheets.
I am dreaming with my lovers
and they’re dreaming with me.


I absolutely love Jamie Noguchi’s webcomic Yellow Peril. It’s smart, funny, damn good art, and unlike nearly every other webcomic I follow, doesn’t ever make me go “Oh. Ick. That’s not really funny if you’re a girl.” (Looking at you, LICD.) Seriously, go into the archives and start this one from the beginning. You won’t regret it.

I love this February’s story arc especially much because, well, girls. Kissing. What’s not to love?

I really should know better than to read the comments. I don’t know how this happens, but every time Noguchi posts a strip that I am particularly happy about, some asshole in the comments shits all over it. For instance, this strip about telling your boss to fuck off drew out a particularly creepy dude who figured it was totally okay to stalk your boss, learn where he (obviously he, no women ever run companies or oversee employees) lives and works, and then subtly drop threatening hints about his wife and family. I’m not kidding.

So why, then, should I be surprised that a commenter on the girls-kissing story arc had this to say?

I’ll be annoyed if she cheats + becomes bisexual because of this incident. If she’s not happy she should break up and I’ve already been through a few webcomics where a character becomes gay/bisexual almost out of nowhere enough times to be nervous about how this will play out. Hoping the next comic is a rebuff.

Right. Sooo annoying when characters that have clearly had a thing for each other for quite some time end up being the same gender. Or, uh, wait. I guess it’s more annoying when you miss the clues and are blindsided by this development because you’re hell-bent on assuming everyone’s straight?

(And, yes, she may be cheating on her boyfriend – does that make her a completely bad and unsalvageable character who we now must hate? Or would you rather the comic just be cleansed of everything that makes you uncomfortable?)

… It is not unreasonable to assume, until stated otherwise, that characters are straight. It’s not Disregarding bisexuals or homosexuals, it’s simply that typically characters are straight until it’s said so in a story. If she was bisexual the whole time and it was stated at some point before hand and was just monogamous and dating a man I wouldn’t have had any problem with this scene at all…

Actually, yes, it is unreasonable. The reasons here are twofold:

1) It is unreasonable to assume that everybody is just like you. That is, in fact, disregarding everybody who is not like you. It is assuming that there is a “default state” to being a human being, and that it is safe to expect that everybody, real or fictional, adheres to the default unless they specifically tell you they do not.

2) It is unreasonable to expect an artist or storyteller to hold your hand and gently lead you through exactly what her or his intentions are for his or her artwork. In this case, you are asking the artist to explicitly state to the audience, at some point, “Hey, folks! This here character is bisexual, and even though she’s dating a guy she could just as easily be dating a girl! In fact, I plan to do a story arc that covers exactly that scenario. Stay tuned!” That would make for some really shitty art. It is up to you, as the reader, to pick up on what the artist is putting down. And, as I pointed out with the linkspam above, it wasn’t exactly a subtle story thread. If you missed the fact that this girl was into that girl, it’s because you’re overlaying your own heteronormative narrative on top of the one the artist has actually written.

Why are characters “typically straight until it’s said so” in any media? What gives you the right to make that statement? How do you look at any given character and know 100% for sure that they’re straight, and not just currently in a hetero relationship?

Also, why the hell isn’t there more queerness in the media? (Because, Penny, it gets attacked the way Yellow Peril did. Oh, right. Good point, Anonymous Imaginary Reader.)

Unless it’s a “special interests” movie like Kissing Jessica Stein or Brokeback Mountain, LGBTQIA people barely get a nod in mainstream media; I was thrilled when the tech girl who was onscreen for five minutes in Mr. And Mrs. Smith mentioned her girlfriend. Media enforces heteronormativity in society, and in return society enforces it in the media. It’s this ridiculous self-supporting cycle that totally erases the experience of “non-normative” people in every quarter.

If am reading Harry Potter would it be considered odd for me to assume that Harry won’t be asking out Ron or Seamus or that Hermione won’t be asking Luna Lovegood out until something in the novels indicates it’s a possibility? I am taking the stance of assuming, until proven otherwise, that a person is the most common sexual preference (straight).

Um, yes, to me that’s odd. Maybe not from the standpoint that, I assume, many artists default to heteronormativity because they know what’ll happen to their sales if they don’t… but I still think it’s odd, yes. It’s the same weird “default state” assumption that leads people to thinking that being straight is normal, but being gay is a choice. And since when is “the most common sexual preference” straight? And if it really is the most common preference, why did you have to immediately qualify that statement with “(straight)” ? Why wouldn’t Hermione be interested in Luna? What’s stopping Harry from being into Ron? Did you know Dumbledore’s gay?

I’ve lived in Chicago all my life and met many gay people, but I’ve met a lot more straight people. That and most films and novels and games having a majority of straight people makes me expect to see more straight people in a story. Is this also odd?

Ye – oh, no. Actually no, that’s not odd at all. Of course you see heteronormative stories in the heteronormative media of a heteronormative society. What’s odd is that you look at those stories and assume that they’re all real and true to life.

I see superheroes all the time in the movies. Does that mean I can expect to move to Gotham and meet Batman? Should I try to get a job as a writer at The Daily Planet? Or maybe apply to work at Stark Industries so I can sue Tony for sexual harassment and comfortably retire on my millions?

Oh, and hey – have you actually met a lot more straight people? Or did you meet a lot of people you assumed were straight because they didn’t explicitly tell you they weren’t?

Obviously, this is just one commenter – who has already been roundly debunked by several others – but I am tired of this circular-logic merry-go-round. “This is normal because the media depicts it this way” + “The media depicts it this way because that’s what’s normal” is bullshit. So is “I’m annoyed with this story line because it doesn’t reinforce my narrow view of the world! The artist should change it!”

And the worst part of it all is that artists with integrity and vision, like Jamie Noguchi, are not only caught in the crossfire but are actively discouraged from making art. Actively shamed for not reinforcing the kyriarchy. Dude, he’s not making them gay AT you; he’s writing the storyline he wants to write. One that’s clearly been planned for several months, and is not an “ass-pull” or a “sexual deus ex machina.”

(Although, good job on the use of “deus ex machina.” Seriously. You even spelled it right.)

We need Yellow Peril. We need Annie kissing Ally, precisely because it surprises us out of the “everybody is straight” narrative. (Well, some of us.) Let the dude make some friggin’ art already.

 

As an afterthought: Who cares if she is a spontaneous bisexual? Does discovering your sexuality post-puberty somehow make it less valid? Because if so, I’m a big ol’ spontaneous queer, myself. Shame on me for… uh… stuff.


(In response to You Should Date An Illiterate Girl)

It’s not so easy being a well-read woman, either, Charles.

You are right about women who read. We want dialogue; we want plot. We want a life that follows a well-charted path, a life full of rich characters and poignant moments, a story that leaves an impact on its audience. We want climax, yes, in every sense. We want a denouement, too – a happy ending that neatly ties the threads of our lives together in a way that leaves us satisfied in our golden years. We understand syntax, and rhythm; word choice, too, and we know how to read between the lines and guess where this story arc will take us.

A well-read woman cannot be swept aside in a minor plot and easily forgotten. We are not content with mediocrity. We are not content to be filler: part of the faceless crowd, part of the setting, suppliers of background noise. We know that we are responsible for our fate – that if our story is dull and uninteresting, it is because we are not playing our part as the central character of our lives.

The modern world is cruel to a literate woman. Her heart aches for a hero, and for adventure. Ask any literate woman if she sometimes wishes someone – anyone – would slay dragons for her. No matter what her lips reply, you will hear her heart whisper a broken, unfulfilled yes. It is a secret wish every literate woman carries deep within herself; one this world has no intention of granting.

There are no battles to fight that would win a woman’s heart. Instead, men fight wars; bloody, impersonal, and cold, fought for greed or power. A woman’s beauty does not move a man to risk his life, not anymore. Our modern world has cheapened everything – romance boiled down to sex, battle simplified into killing, adventure stripped down until it is merely a vacation. Queens and kings are politicians.  Knights are now soldiers. No one sings of the valiant deeds of heroes; poetry is written by angsty, pimple-faced teenagers with a rudimentary grasp of imagery and no concept of the term cliché. Chivalry has been mortally wounded and left for dead.

Is it any wonder, then, that a literate woman dreams of something better? Can you really fault her for wanting more than you’re willing to give? A well-read woman does not want a safe man, a man who will do the dishes and the laundry when asked, a man whose greatest battle consists of putting on his tie every morning and facing another soulless day at the office to put bread on the table for his family. That man deserves all the love his wife can give him, yes; but if she is a literate woman, she will spend her life yearning for danger and adventure. Her heart will waste away within her, wishing she had been born in a different time and place, wanting the kind of love found only in books and fairy tales, dying to be the heroine of her tale. A literate woman not only wants to make something of her life, but she longs for someone to share it with; someone who would guard with his very life the beauty and power she yearns to find within herself.

Literate women have need of steel-hearted heroes. There is no room in our story for a man who would tuck tail and run at the first sign of danger, nor is there room for a man who prefers the gray monotony of mediocre drudgery because it means avoiding the terrible risk of failure. If there is nothing to be lost, then what do you stand to gain? A literate woman needs someone courageous; someone who can gaze unflinching into the gaping rawness of a woman’s unfulfilled and broken heart, and stand resolved to heal it, no matter what the cost.

If this seems too difficult for you, Charles, then do us a favor and date the illiterate girls. This world has spawned an abundance of them. Live your meager, average life, and die your unremarkable death. But do not hate the well-read woman and blame her for your fate. It is not her fault you failed to be the hero.


A friend of mine posted an inspired and lengthy rant on Facebook the other day about getting tattoos; namely, that several people has asked him if he thought it would be a good idea to for them to get one. In a nutshell, his answer was “Not if you have to ask me that question.”

It got me thinking. There are tons of things I wish I’d known before getting my first tattoo – and although I love the ones I have and have been happy with them for many years, I will admit that I would have done so much more if I’d known I could. So I figured I’d put together a list of Things To Think About When Getting Tattoos.

The Art

The art is arguably the most important part of the tattoo. What are you getting done? Is it symbolic? Is it something you’ll continue to like for the rest of your life? Life is both too long and too short to be getting crappy tattoos. If you’re not convinced, look here. There are hundreds of examples on that site of art you will not want etched on your body for all eternity.

If you’re getting a tattoo that you think is funny, for example, ask yourself: will this still be funny in 10 years? 20? 50? If you’re getting a tattoo that is meaningful, will it still be meaningful to you when you’re 60? If you’re getting someone’s name, will they still be important to you when you’re old and grey? Will they still be a part of your life? Are you sure?

Put together a sketch or some reference material that approximates the tattoo you want to get, and hang it in your mirror for six months to a year. Put a jar underneath it. Look at that thing every day. Each time you look at it and think “Hell yeah, that’s badass,” put $5 in the jar.

If you get to the end of the year without taking it down or changing it completely, then take all that money you’ve been saving up and go get your tattoo. Oh, which reminds me:

The Price

A good tattoo ain’t cheap, and a cheap tattoo ain’t good. It’s as simple as that. Tattoo art is one of the few industries left in (arguably) the world where you really do get what you pay for. A better artist will cost more. A better artist will also be booked farther in advance – which, honestly works out to your benefit. That gives you more time to save up, and more time to be sure it’s what you really want.

The Artist

Like I said, a better artist will be booked farther in advance. That’s a good thing. Seriously, don’t go with an artist that takes walk-in appointments. Think about it this way: the more any artist practices, the better they get, right? So if your tattoo artist is sitting around waiting for you to wander in off the street and get a tattoo, how much practice do you really think they’re getting? How likely is it that they’ll be able to apply your artwork with a skilled and confident hand, without making any (permanent, un-erasable) mistakes?

The other argument against walk-in appointments is the artwork itself. Any tattoo artist worth working with is going to provide you with a sketch of the artwork they’re doing before they ink it onto you. I’ve had artists do this even when I walked in with the artwork pre-drawn and ready to go. It’s important that they sketch it themselves – it helps imprint the artwork into muscle memory and makes it less likely that they’ll screw it up later on.

Even better than that is to have the artist design the tattoo themselves. It doesn’t cost you any extra, and in my experience it looks way, way better. Remember: this is their job. They make art. It’s what they do. So let them do their job. They will do it better than you can.

Choosing an artist may take time. Every tattoo artist should have a portfolio out somewhere at the shop where they work. Look through all of them and keep track of the pieces you like best. Lots of artists have an individual style, or certain strengths – for instance, I chose my current artist because she specializes in cover-ups and is good at matching the styles of pre-existing tattoos – which is exactly what I was looking for. If I wanted someone who was good at realistic portraits, I may have picked a different artist. Same goes if I wanted someone who did really good Sailor Jerry-style artwork, or traditional Japanese tattoos, or cartoon characters, etc. Ask someone at the shop who they’d recommend. Ask your artist what their strengths are. Be picky. If nothing else, ask the artist for a sketch and compare it to the artwork you’re bringing in yourself. It won’t cost you anything, and then at least you’ll know you’re getting the best artwork you can for your money.

Ask how well they really know their stuff. This isn’t just about the artwork, either, but how well it’s applied. Unless you have sensitive skin or scar easily, a tattoo should be totally smooth when it’s healed over. There shouldn’t be any bumps or raised bits. There also shouldn’t be any lines or parts that look faded. If the tattoo isn’t applied well, it won’t heal well, and that will affect the outcome of the artwork. Make sure they know what they’re doing when it comes to poking holes in your body.

The Part

One of the main considerations, obviously, is “Can I cover it if I need to for a job?” This might not matter depending on your chosen industry or your level of give-a-shittedness. It is also true that tattoos are gaining a wider and wider acceptance within mainstream culture – a sleeve down to your wrist isn’t as big a deal as it used to be. Still, a tattoo on your forehead or “Thug Lyfe” across your knuckles will probably limit your employment opportunities – so be very sure of your career path before going down that route.

Another, less obvious, consideration is “How will it look where it’s placed?” A good artist should be able to help you with placement. You want the artwork to enhance the body part it’s on, not clash with it. My tattoo artist described it to me this way once: “I like to leave the work sort of open-ended, so it can be added onto later if you want.” Rather than looking like the piece was just stamped on, your artist should be able to make your artwork look like it belongs there. Another thing to keep in mind is stretching. If you plan on getting pregnant, you might want to reconsider that ring around your belly button. And no matter what you plan, take into account the possibility of weight gain as you get older. It might not be wise to get tattooed in places where you have (or are likely to get) stretch marks.

The Pain

I’m sure we all know by now that tattoos hurt. But, of course, not all tattoos hurt equally. In conjunction with The Part, The Pain is important to consider. Getting a tattoo down your spine will hurt considerably more than getting one on your ass. Getting tattooed in your ticklish spots will make your artist grumpy as you writhe and twitch on her table (trust me on this). I’ve heard that the underside of your arm is unbearably painful; a lot of arm bands have an empty space there for that reason. In general, spots where the bone is close to the skin or where the skin is thinner will be more sensitive and thus more painful – which explains why so many tattoos exist on the muscle of the outer arm, and the meaty parts of the back, and so on.

The other thing to plan for is the size of your tattoo, especially if it’s your first. Consider getting a small tattoo for your first one, or a small part of a larger design that would look ok on its own if the pain turns out to be too much to handle. (And for the record: there’s no shame in getting a small tattoo and deciding you never, ever want to go through that again. Seriously.) Keep in mind that larger tattoos will take longer to finish, and will cost more – all the tattoo artists I’ve seen charge by the hour. Know your limits. Don’t be afraid to end a session earlier than you planned if you’re reaching the limit of your pain threshold. You can be a badass once the tattoo is done and healed – no one wants to see you passing out on the artist’s table because you were too macho to say stop.

The Aftercare

If you’ve spent this much time and money getting a tattoo, it only makes sense to put some time and effort into maintaining it. You wouldn’t spend $300 on a painting just to nail it up in your front yard and let the wind and rain destroy it, right? So protect your tattoo. Don’t let your asshole friends slap it while it’s healing. (Besides hurting like a bitch, from what I’ve heard, it can also break the lines and color and actually damage the artwork. That is a seriously dick move.) Let it heal properly – don’t pick at the scabs, and give yourself enough time between sessions. Wear sunscreen if it’s going to be exposed while you’re in the sun, no matter how long you’ve had it. Sun damage will make even the best tattoo look like crap. Keep it moisturized. Try not to get injured in spots where you have tattoos (i.e. maybe reconsider getting that wrist-length sleeve if you’re, say, a mountain biker who breaks falls with their bare forearms).

~~~

Look. I happen to think tattoos are awesome and super fun. They’re addictive – I’m not even done with my back piece and I’m already planning a new half-sleeve.  They’re a great form of self-expression and a very cool art form. But that doesn’t mean they’re right for everyone. Make sure you think it through. And if you decide to get a tattoo – don’t settle for anything less than the coolest, awesome-est, bad-ass-est tattoo you can possibly get. Whatever that means to you.



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