This post isn’t really
going to be about my shoes, but rather something you need to wear shoes… your
feet, duh!
A couple weeks ago, I
got a foot tattoo with my cousin Vanessa. We decided to get matching infinity
signs on the outside of our foot. It was something that we had been discussing
for over a year and we planned to get it when we went to the beach this summer
in North Carolina.
I really don’t mind the
idea of tattoos…now. I always used to have the mentality when I was younger
that I would NEVER do that to myself. I always wondered how someone could love
something SO much that they would want it literally connected to them for life.
Being the kind of indecisive overthinker that I am, I always thought there was
no way I would ever make a lifelong commitment of physical alteration to my
body. Sure, I have my ears and my belly button pierced and I’ve had my nose
pierced, but those are easily taken out when they no longer suit you. Jewelry
is changeable and holes are closeable.
As I got older, I
understood more some of the reasoning behind why people get tattoos. Some
tattoos are beautiful for the design and appearance, but sometimes the meaning
behind them is even more beautiful. Some of my best friends have tattoos that
they absolutely love and once they tell me what they mean to them, I find
myself loving them too. A tattoo with a personal meaning holds a constant
reminder of why you got it, who you got it with, where you were in your life at
that point and what it means for you, and I really do find that beautiful.
Once I found myself
wanting a tattoo, I thought about the things in my life that I love. And I
couldn’t help but think of Vanessa.
The one thing that has always, and will always,
be constant in my life. Our families joke that we’re long lost twins and the
fact that we call each other soul mates. I can’t imagine my life without her.
Our relationship consists of not only our bond now, but our childhood, our
family, and the idea of always being connected. Having Vanessa isn’t like having
a friend or having a spouse or a boyfriend, instead it’s family, the love that
will never leave. A bond that will never be broken. Love times infinity.
At first, Vanessa was
unsure about the idea when I threw it out there, but it only took a few days for
her to be convinced. We jumped into it without looking back. We were doing it.
No ifs, ands or buts. We had discussed everything in depth: the size, location,
color, and style of the tattoo. Vanessa and I are very similar in the fact that
we both over think everything we do to the point of an obsession. And with both
of us thinking about something we would have on our bodies for the rest of our
lives, it’s needless to say that we overly consumed with ideas, questions, and
second thoughts. We were scared we were going to make the wrong decision, that
it was going to hurt or that we would regret it immediately after.
I never really saw
myself getting a foot tattoo. Once I discovered myself wanting a tattoo, I
thought for sure it’d be on my back or my waist. I don’t love many parts of my
body but I really do love my feet. They’re small and they’re proportional to my
body. I always have my toes painted a different color. My boyfriend gives me
amazing foot massages when they hurt and I always make sure they’re moisturized
and buffed and pretty. I mean, considering how much I love shoes it’s not
surprising, right? It’s not like you would buy a beautiful new candy dish and
put dog food in it…so why would I put something nasty into shoes I love so
much? I take pride in my feet and what I put on them…to me, my feet are an accessory
too. The idea of a foot tattoo never really crossed my mind, but once I saw the
design Vanessa and I wanted of the infinity sign, we decided on our feet and we
never turned back. It felt right for some reason I can’t explain and we could
never picture it anywhere else.
When Vanessa and I
arrived in North Carolina, we went to the tattoo parlor, much our mother’s
dismay, and made an appointment. Up until that point, I was so caught up in the
glamour of the idea that I was getting a tattoo with my soul mate that I didn’t
think about a lot of aspects that I really should have considered. After we set
the appointment and paid a 50$ deposit, the reality of the situation set in and
so did the fear. It was going to hurt. Badly. When it comes to tattoos, the
foot is one of the most sensitive and painful places on the body to get a
tattoo next to the hand, face or the ribs. People we knew with foot tattoos
told us it hurt really badly, more than other tattoos they have. We suddenly
became consumed with fear that it was going to be so utterl painful that we
wouldn’t be able to do it. What if we got halfway through and couldn’t finish?
What if we had an involuntary flinch and the artist messes up?
Our thoughts
were irrational and the two of us thinking these thoughts and bringing them up
to each other constantly wasn’t helping. Whenever I would calm down, Vanessa
would be freaking out and I would freak out too. Whenever Vanessa got her mind
on something else, I would remind her of the pain with a ridiculous question that
neither of us could answer.
Not only did I not
think about the pain during the tattoo, but I hadn’t thought about the pain
after the tattoo. You’re supposed to avoid wearing enclosed shoes for about
three weeks…and I wear my work shoes about 35 hours a week. You’re supposed to
try and stay off your foot and I was going on two vacations and standing at a register
all day at work. The placement of the tattoo also wasn’t something we had
thought through in the sense that it was going to fade faster because of it
being on the side of the foot. But we had put down money and if it’s one thing
we are, as a 20 and 21 year old college student, it’s CHEAP. We’re both pretty
positive that if it wasn’t for the deposit we would have chickened out after
all of our fears, worries and irrational thoughts raced through our mind for
four days before our appointment.
When we got to our
appointment, we were way too early. Vanessa and I tried to scream it out in the
car but we were shaking in fear. More than once upon entering the tattoo shop,
after hearing the buzz of the tattoo gun mixed in with the death metal music
over the speakers and seeing pretty much every person there covered in tattoos,
did we say:
“We don’t belong here” and “What are we doing with
our lives?”
Once Vanessa sat in the
chair, her eyes bugged out and she looked about to cry. I couldn’t even be
right next to her since I was supposed to stay behind a half wall, but my arm
reached over as far as I could until our hands were gripping. Before the tattoo
even started, Vanessa had already grabbed my arm so hard I had a pretty good Indian
burn. The tattoo artist, a man who resembled a giant, unhappy Zach Galifianakis
with ten facial piercings including a one pound ring in the middle of his nose,
didn’t seem to care at all about our fears and certainly didn’t make us feel
that comfortable. We knew he was a great artist, so we weren’t concerned about
that, but we were concerned about the pain we were about to experience.
Vanessa surprised me by
barely reacting besides the occasional teeth gritting and mousy “that really
hurts.” I talked about how beautiful she is and we discussed drama in her life
to take her mind off it, but she didn’t cry and it made me feel like I could do
this too. We were in it together.
Once I sat in the
chair, the reality of the situation hit me even more. My body was
uncontrollably shaking. My eyes welled up with tears as Vanessa smiled at me knowing
exactly what I was feeling. When the tattoo gun hit my foot, I was surprised of
the pain. It was unusual…it didn’t make me want to cry, or jerk my foot away,
but instead it was a little irritating. Probably less than a bee sting. It
ached more than it stung. It felt like a person with a sharp nail dug it into
my skin and was running it along my foot. The only part that really hurt was
when it got close to my ankle because of the placement of the bone in my foot.
When it was done we
paid the rest of the bill, silently patting ourselves on the back and once we
exited the building we erupted in cheers, hugs and dance moves. We figured we
would save it until we left so that the pierced, tattoo covered, metal
listening artists wouldn’t think we were lame. We bought ourselves our favorite
foods, Dairy Queen M&M flurry for her and a plate of Thai fried rice for
me.
Since having my tattoo,
my foot has been in pain. It has swollen up a few times from work and walking,
it’s itched to the point of tickling, it’s peeled, it’s burned, and it’s ached.
I’ve had half a dozen nightmares about my tattoo falling off or fading thanks
to Vanessa’s morning texts telling me about her crazy dreams of infected,
falling off, peeling tattoos. I also baby my foot like you wouldn’t believe. I’ve
always been like that when it comes to any injury and I’ve made a ridiculous
effort to sleep with it outside of blankets and hold it out of the shower and
hand washing it afterwards.
But if there’s one
thing I am, when it comes to this tattoo, it’s happy. I’m happy I did it. I’m
happy I conquered a fear. I’m happy that I have a reminder of Vanessa that I
see every day of my life. I’m happy that I’m that loved that someone else would
want to have something tattooed on them to remind them of me. I’m happy about
the way it looks, the placement and the simplicity of it. Every time I see it,
I smile.
I’m just happy.
And I know she’s happy too.
P.S. But I will add…that
the only thing I’m NOT happy about it my inability to wear whatever shoes I
want…I really really REALLY miss my strap on sandals, my sneakers, my flats, my
wedges, my heels and my rain boots. Badly. I find myself staring at them a lot and
wishing I could complete my outfit with my cheetah sandals or my pink wedges. I can't even explain how sick I am of my two dollar Old Navy rubber flip lops. I
can’t wait until my foot tattoo heals and I can wear whatever shoes I want,
whenever I want! It’s like torture, but I want my tattoo to heal right and I
just live for the day I can show off my tat in whatever shoes I wish!
