You Can't Take These

I've been thinking a lot about my tattoos lately. Recently I decided I wanted the backs of my hands done. My initial reaction to myself was, "Oh my God, you can't do that, people will think you're a fruit."

Uh.  What!?

I can do whatever I want. Simply because *I* said so. So the decision has been made. I'll be doing my hands with two beautiful designs that mean something to me.

Then I got to thinking about how best to explain my tattoos to others. Believe it or not, I get asked. I think it's strange because I'd NEVER dream of walking up to someone and saying, "What the hell were you thinking with that haircut!?"

While chit chatting with a client today, it came to me. These tattoos are my story. They are my photographs. They are my memories. I choose them. I'm in control of them. No one can go through this diary without my permission, and even then, they'll only get the excerpts I choose. No one can take them from me. No one can twist them and make them something they're not, no matter what insults or queer looks are thrown my way.

I'm bold enough to wear my story on the outside for all to see, while many of you live in your sick secret-infested lies. That might work for you, but it'll never be me.