Tagged: tattoos

The one that got under my skin

Some non-book news. I got another tattoo.

This one wasn’t planned months or years in advance like my others. It just happened one day. I found a picture, it resonated with me, I went to my local tattoo studio and got it designed and inked within a few days.

Tattoo by the lovely Simon / @psymanflash at Monsters of Art in West Hampstead.

And then people do that thing and go, “So what does it mean?”

To be honest, at the moment I chose it, it didn’t mean anything. It was a picture I liked.

But while I was waiting for my tattoo appointment, I started thinking about why that picture had resonated with me so strongly that I wanted it under my skin immediately.

I was going through a breakup with someone who spoke of true love and forever, and meant none of it. I’d allowed myself to fall hard for him, and before I knew it I fell flat on my face.

Of course I beat myself up about letting down my guard, showing my feelings, making myself so vulnerable.

Of course I told myself I would never let that happen again.

When I found a picture of a heart-shaped rib cage online, I immediately saw it inked on my forearm. It just felt like it was meant to be there. And the phrase that kept coming back to me was ‘Wearing my heart on my sleeve’.

Because that’s what I do. I’m honest about my feelings and I believe in the best in people. Sure, I’d like to be more cynical and calculating, better at playing games, but that just wouldn’t be me. And I won’t change myself for anyone.

I think this picture came to me at just the right time – and now I wear it under my skin as a permanent reminder.

So yeah, that’s what it means. I’m wearing my heart on my sleeve, and that’s okay.