Inked Mother

I got my first tattoo when I was fourteen years of age. It was a “stick n poke” done by my friend in her garage whilst her parents weren’t home. It got infected, obviously, and I had to tell my mum what had happened a while later so that she could take me to the doctor. It wasn’t the best experience, but it certainly didn’t deter me from tattooing every inch of my body years later.

I am now forty-two years young, and a mother of three. My final three tattoos were my children’s names, and I officially no longer have any room on my body for anything else. If I wanted to get another one I would have to get a tattoo removed, and I am way too emotionally attached to ever let that happen. 

One of my favourite tattoos, which I got to commemorate a holiday, has got to the best tattoo Ho Chi Minh City has ever seen. It’s got everything. The tattoo design so accurately represents the beauty of Vietnam that I wouldn’t be surprised if they used the image as a postcard or promotional photo of the country. It’s absolutely stunning, just like every other design on my body (but a bit more stunning than the rest).

On the same holiday, I visited a Canggu tattoo studio that was extremely helpful and professional. I was unsure about what sort of art I wanted to represent my time in Indonesia, and so they took the reigns and created a design that I am proud to display on myself. All my tattoos work together to tell an important story about me, whether that be showcasing the places I’ve travelled, the people I cherish or things in life that I love. I am proud to show my children my tattoos so that they can learn all about me, and I look forward to watching them develop and tell the story of their personal journeys in their own way.