So…. a couple of months back I got brave enough to try to get a tattoo and it was nothing short of an EPIC FAIL. If you missed the post, catch up here.
Since then we have made some new friends and started spending a lot of our free time with them. One of the guys in the group was a professional tattoo artist for several years before an injury caused him to set that all aside. Over the past few weeks, he’s gotten his tattoo equipment out and started working on his friends (us).
He knew all about my disastrous first attempt. He offered to do something small on a less sensitive part of my body if I wanted to. I wasn’t sure I’d be brave enough to try it again. I would not want the end result of the first attempt to happen again especially in the company of friends.
One thing about myself, though, is that I absolutely HATE knowing that there is something that I just can’t do. It pisses me off. Now, I’m not saying I have to be able to do everything under the sun. But in this situation, the helplessness of my body betraying me and causing me to pass out was more than I could deal with. It meant that it was a mental block… just not ok in my world. It made me crazy because it wasn’t the pain. It didn’t even hurt that bad.
Last weekend Andy gave me a drawing that he thought I might like to have inked somewhere. It was a crescent moon, five stars and some girlie swirlie lines. Total of about 2 inches worth of design. I really liked the design. It had five stars in it, which is perfect. Five stars, five sons. It was little, didn’t require a lot of ink, and was very cute and girlie. All I had to do now was work up the courage to let him put it on me.
Over the course of the week, Don and I started using a sharp needle to trace lines over different parts of my body to see if I thought I could stand to get it done. Some places, like the insides of my wrists, my ankles, the back of my neck, and middle of my back, were all really uncomfortable. It was like the needle was dancing on my nerves in those places. However running it over any part of my bottom, my hip and the tops of my breasts felt good. Not just doable but damn near pleasant.
I decided my right hip would be the spot and during our visit to their house on Saturday, we’d see what we could get done.
So we get there, he takes out a table and gets his equipment ready. I watched him make all the preparations, even preparing the needles (and didn’t even swoon a little). I am sure it helped that there were several of our friends there making me laugh and putting me at ease. He does it out of his home right now while he is getting used to doing it again and so our kids are all running around while he’s getting ready. My kids think it’s funny as hell that Mom’s getting a tattoo on her butt! LOL. It wasn’t really going on my butt but they thought it was funny anyway.
Once all the preparations were made, we got started. He ran the machine over my hip without any ink in it to see how it felt. I wanted to to do that so that I didn’t end up with another half done tattoo. It felt fine. Good, even. So, with that, I took a deep breath, made sure I had my soda and candy (in case my sugar dropped) and we got started.
It didn’t hurt. Honestly, I was closer to an orgasm from the sensation than I was to passing out. I didn’t even come close to passing out and he worked on me for about 2 hours, start to finish. The first attempt was all of about 20-30 minutes and I passed out twice and left with six lines where a tattoo was supposed to be. This time, not only did I not pass out at all, but I have a really cute tattoo on my hip AND more than anything else, proof to myself that I CAN handle it.
Will I ever get another tattoo… that remains to be seen. I hope to finish the one on the back of my neck. Other than that, who knows. Mostly I just wanted to know that I couldn’t be held back by this and now I know that I can’t. That makes me smile!