2018,  Family,  Musings

Musings: Disowned at 35?

Can your Mother disown you at 35?

Asking for a friend. HAHA!

Kidding, mostly! But seriously, she was a champ about it all, BUT I do know how much she detests what I did.

Well, I should say what WE did. Lil and I.

35 years later, about 25 years of being told I wasn’t allowed too, Lil and I finally got our first tattoos.

The permanency of a tattoo felt daunting. Is there something that you want on your body for your ENTIRE life? No going back when its there. There is one thing I always wanted, a soccer ball. However, my Mom is adamantly opposed to her daughter having tattoos. She’s verbalized it ever since we were in high school. She’s also opposed to any piercing and fake boobs. We were allowed to pierce our ears when we turned 13, it was a huge deal. I vividly remember being so excited and anxiously waiting to turn 13 so she would take me to Claire’s to get my ears pierced.

I also remember in college, I really wanted the ‘industrial piercing.’ Yes, I had a fun little rocker phase where I wore lots of Hurley, Paul Frank, and a studded belt. She told me if I saved $1,000 I could get it. Well, guess who actually saved $1k? Then guess who didn’t get it? Now that I look back on it, I was 18 and could have easily gone to get it done. But, I respected the fact that my parents were paying for college and I was living with them, why rock the boat? A piercing was not worth losing my tuition funding and housing. Would she really have kicked me out? Possibly, but not if my Dad had any say 🙂

Don’t think I didn’t want a belly button piercing too. But that was way out of the question. I asked in high school every year near my birthday. It was almost like a running joke. I respect my Mom’s decision to not ‘allow’ us to pierce or tattoo our bodies, even though I wanted it. I think it truly gave us time to really think about what we want and not make irrational decisions because of what our peers were doing or any other trivial reason.

But, after many years of contemplating a tattoo, I finally decided to go for it. I have more disposable income these days, so it wouldn’t be an issue financially. Plenty of my friends have tattoos, so I had (and have) a plethora of resources to rely on for a referral. I ended up going with Cuterson and Trin’s fella, who was extremely nice and has a great small shop.

Lil and I had been texting back and forth about our appointment dates and what we were going to get. I didn’t realize she was into Sister tattoos, I thought she wanted her own thing, so I was going to get my own. Then she mentioned Sister tattoo’s and I didn’t stop her. Of course, I love that shit, it’s so me. But I didn’t want to force that idea on her. After tons of back and forth with the tattoo artist and reschedules we decided on a date to get our Sister tattoos together.

Originally, I was going to go in first and get the other tattoo I wanted. But since I was supposed to be triathlon training we decided I should wait until after the race, since the healing process does not give way to those who are training consistently. Well, that said training never happened, but I decided we’d just chat about that tattoo at our Sister appointment.

I wasn’t apprehensive, nor was I nervous until it was my turn to lay down on the table. I wasn’t even really that nervous, I wasn’t really trying to endure much pain. Luckily, our tattoos literally only took about eight minutes in total and about 1/3 of that he wasn’t even tattooing me. I let Lil go first because she wanted too. I really wanted too, but I think this was supposed to be a super belated birthday gift, so I let her. She told me it hurt, but I figured I’d be the judge of that myself. It hurt. Not like the worst pain I’ve ever felt, not even sure what that is, but painful enough for me to decide I will not be getting the planned second tattoo. It also doesn’t help that where I got my tattoo and where I wanted the next one, were both in places the artist said are the most sensitive spots on the body! Ugh! To be fair, I was also told that our tattoos weren’t big enough to allow the endorphins to rush the area and mask the pain. So, if I did get another one, it may be a different experience.

Well played, Mom!

After we were done, we ate at Shell’s fave lunch spot with her favorite dessert. Mom and Dad knew what and when we were doing it, we even sent real-time photos of us both getting our tattoos. Mom was a good sport about it and hasn’t tried to make us feel bad about them. I appreciate that even though she does not prefer them, she has set aside that notion and let us enjoy our new found tattoos.

Looking back, I honestly appreciate how she asked us to hold off for so long. I can also appreciate her wanting us not to ‘taint’ our body. In the end, we made our own, grown-up decision that will last us a lifetime. US. Not her, just us. But I also hope she saw that I truly appreciated and respected how they financially supported me (and Lil) through our undergraduate degrees. Education is extremely important in our family and I’ve learned that from them. I’m sure I would have figured out a way to survive if they cut me off, but it was and is not worth it. I am happy to have waited this long to get my first tattoo. It just felt like the right time and the tattoo has so much meaning for us, together and for individual reasons. I will never regret our decision to get tattoos, get the same tattoos, and to wait this long to finally go through with it.

Disown is a little extreme, but she has threatened it before…

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