My Turquoise Bag

I did something very out of character the other day. Something completely unlike me.

I got tattooed for the first time.

Getting the tattoos wasn’t the part that was out of character. I’ve been wanting to get one for a while now, and in light of my upcoming 40th birthday, I planned on getting it sometime this year.

For months, I curated a Pinterest board of tattoo designs, I saved tattoo artists on my Instagram, I consulted Reddit for recommended tattoo studios in my area, and I jotted down the tips and advice from my inked friends. I even created a task in my colour-coded calendar to “Book tattoo appointment”.

That task kept getting pushed back because of how busy life has been getting, and I couldn’t realistically picture myself slotted in for a tattoo appointment between the family events, the summer plans and the upcoming travels. Getting a tattoo became a floating task that I decided to tackle in the Fall.

As it happens though, I really didn’t need to plan anything at all.

All I needed was a sunny Sunday in Parkdale, my close girlfriends, and a promotion on a tattoo shop window.

I looked at the faces in front of me, and I couldn’t think of a better time, place and people to do this with.

For something as permanent as a tattoo, the most out of character thing was me saying “fuck it” and getting it done on the spot.

No checklists. No appointments booked. Just going for it.

Now that 48 hours has passed as an inked woman, I am starting to understand something about tattoos. The appeal about tattoos is more than the tattoo itself, the art form, self-expression or identity.

It’s about moving along in life as best as we could, and stopping by a tattoo studio once in a while to mark something about it.

A timeline of life. A story to tell. People to remember. An experience to feel.

And a reminder that sometimes the best memories are the ones we don’t plan at all.

Wishing you a summer of freedom, openness and courage.

xo 🌞✨🌙🌼