At A Glance
Author	anonymous
When	N/A

For almost a year now, I have been gradually undergoing a series of laser treatments to remove three of my tattoos.

It takes a long time because I don't live in a location where there are any decent surgeons, so I have to travel back home to do it.

It costs a fortune because that's just the nature of the business.

It hurts like a bitch because the laser burns your skin and sometimes you get these gigantic, disgusting blisters which take days to pop and when they do, it's like somebody poured battery acid onto your skin.

Why, then, did I choose to do this? I hit a point in my life where I couldn't sleep because of the tattoos that no longer represented who I am. Not who I was, not who I want to be, not who I will be, but who I AM, who I will always be...the part of me that will never change.

I couldn't sleep because all I could think of were the times in my life when I got these tattoos- when I was so hellbent on hiding behind them, so that nobody would ever know who I really was. It wasn't so much a representation of how I identified at that point in time; it was a statement about what I was NOT, and I wanted everyone to know.

I wanted everyone to know how different I am and how much I enjoy darkness and gothic iconography and art. I wanted them to know that I am not like everyone else, as if this was something that needed to be visually explained, as if it were not totally obvious in my thoughts and ideas. So I chose symbols that were practically storebought, to represent who I thought I wanted to be.

They're not bad tattoos, they just don't work for me; they are large and dark and unweildly, whereas I am small and can be quite invisible when I want to be. They stick out like a sore thumb and I don't. They just don't work. For all my merits as an artist, they are positioned and scaled very badly, a fact which I find embarrassing.

I suddenly came to this realization tonight, after booking my fifth removal appointment and wondering yet again when the back of my hair will grow enough to cover the piece of shit on my neck. I came to this entire conclusion that while I would love to someday get a tattoo that I REALLY want, I can't right now.

I can't because now that I know the pain of regret and of making a decision that is more or less irreversible, I can't go down that path again without being far more careful. The thought of sitting down in the chair waiting for the stencil to be applied, makes me break out in a cold sweat.

I have many new loves which I would love to celebrate in ink, but something inside of me won't let me now. I am in the midst of a huge transitional phase and if I can give anybody any decent advice about getting tattooed, it is this: DON'T do it when you are going through a lot of change in your life, unless you are absolutely sure that that's how you want to make your mark. Ask yourself: do you want to remember the change itself, or the effect that it had on you later on?

I have one tattoo in mind for the rest of my life and it consists of a small infinity symbol, to represent forever, to represent a focal distance of forever. Something which even a matter of three years ago, I could not comprehend, but something which has changed my life now that I know it.

It makes me a little sad that I can't get it now, and it scares me to think that before I was even old enough to drink, I made so many life-changing decisions without any regards to the ways in which I might grow as a person. I am by no means anti-tattoo, but believe me when I say that you MUST be able to think about the long-term consequences if you decide to get a tattoo, or ten tattoos, or whatever.

For all the good feelings of walking home from the shop with fresh saran wrap on brand new ink, it is not always right and it is never worth any pain, tears, money, or time. What I'm really trying to say here is that I think we are living in a culture where we're all about topping everyone else, and we're all about instant gratification. This is something that should not be applied to the process of human growth and development. We are not machines. We cannot simply be updated from time to time, nor can we uninstall the parts of ourselves that we don't want.

Technology has brought us the gift of being able to reverse some of these decisions, but we shouldn't rely on it. Getting a good tattoo is like making a good movie: if the pre-production sucks, it will fail from the start, no matter how good your crew is. If something goes wrong in production, you can only fix it in post-production up to a point, and it will cost you at least twice the effort. So do you want a straight-to-video, trashy B movie with a lousy script, or do you want a cinematic masterpiece? Please choose wisely.