I have two inks. One on my ankle, one on my upper thigh.
I have two long scars running down my leg, from two different accidents involving cars (I wasn't in the car either time). After the second accident I was on the beach recovering and enjoying my summer and a kid with his mom were passing me. Kid said "look at that lady with the scar!" (It was still very fresh, scabbed over, and unsightly, and I had my shillelagh that I use for a cane beside me on the towel). The mom scolded her son. I felt horrible about that. He was just pointing out the obvious. I stood out in the crowd. If I wanted to hide it, I would've not gone to the beach. I really didn't care who saw it but didn't realize how horrible it must've looked to a little kid.
So I got up, got all my stuff, and drove to the nearest tattoo parlor and told them to give me something small, but pretty, on that leg. I got a butterfly hovering over a flower in beautiful but simple colors. Now when people see my leg they have something pretty to look at, instead of just those horrible scars.
The one on my ankle I got around 12 years later. It represents passion and compassion, and it's my own design. A burning heart with two blood-red "teardrops" dripping down beneath it.
When I'm wearing a bathing-suit, everyone can see both of them. I frankly don't care what any of you think about them. I hope you find them more attractive than the scars on my legs, but eh - closed minds are gonna stay closed. I hope your lives give you some meaning some day.
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