Thanks, Caitlin. This is so funny because I was just thinking last night that tattoos is one subject I should avoid. I don’t have any either and don’t want one. Even if I did, I’d never be able to decide on the design, the size, or the location. I understand how tattoos can have profound meaning to some, and I do consider them a legitimate form of self-expression, but I agree that they can detract from the natural beauty of a person. When I was a teen, in ancient times, tattoos were for bikers, hookers, sailors, and people desperate to shock their parents. When I was in grade school, a nun told my class that a person with a tattoo couldn’t be buried in sanctified ground. (This is garbage, they can.) Now, a lot of people get them, and many get quite a few. I know women my age, despite the fact that our skin is not the pristine canvas it once was, bounding with sons and daughters over something they would have fought over 20 years ago. There’s much to commend the practice, but it’s not my thing. I can burst into tears over a haircut. I think it’s the permanence that bothers me most. It’s like having to wear the same sweater for the rest of your life. Tattoos were once super cool, but now, it’s super common. When grandma’s covered in ink, maybe it’s time for a new trend among youth. But hey, different strokes! P.S. Thanks for finding me intriguing!

I write whatever I want, like poetry The New Yorker wouldn’t dare print. Visit me at denisesheltonwrites.com.

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