By Amanda Knox
 
In a parallel, not-so-distant universe, I might have been a tattoo artist. In this one, I’m merely a tattoo person. I don’t have spider webs on my elbows or a big Chinese dragon coiled across my back. I don’t style my life or identity around being inked. That’s cool; just not for me. What I am is an enthusiast of the body as a canvas. I’m an admirer of the artistry. And I encourage everyone who’s on the fence about getting a tattoo to go for it. Just, be smart.
 
This past weekend my littlest sister, Delaney, turned eighteen, and to celebrate, she asked us—her three older sisters—to get a tattoo with her. It was chaos. In the days leading up to the big day, Delaney was out of town and incommunicado. Deanna, Ashley and I each separately called and visited the tattoo parlor multiple times, and offered the staff contradictory information. We changed our minds about the final design up to the last minute. We acted like a gaggle of newbs, except we weren’t. Between the three of us, we already had ten tattoos, and a bit of knowledge about the do’s and don’ts, the good and bad, and the right perspective to carry our littlest sister through her first tattoo.
 
Bit of knowledge #1: You’re a tattoo person.

A lot of people don’t fancy themselves tattoo people because they think you have to be invested in a very specific kind of lifestyle to get a tattoo. Like a criminal, or a hipster. Not true. Just like tattoo people, tattoos come in all shapes, sizes, and styles. Depending on the placement, they can be public or private. Depending on the design, their meaning can be obvious or cryptic. A tattoo is art that becomes a part of you, but it doesn’t define you, or change who you are. So unless you’re allergic to tattoo ink, or may be traumatized by the sight of a little blood and/or the experience of being pricked with a needle over and over (kind of like a prolonged bee sting?), you’re a tattoo person.
 
Bit of knowledge #2: It’s all about working with an artist.
 
When I got my first tattoo at nineteen (with my aunt, Mom, and Deanna for her eighteenth birthday), due diligence compelled me to research parlors for their cleanliness and quality. It never occurred to me to research tattoo artists. I showed up to my appointment never having met or spoken with my artist, and brandishing a print-out from a Google image search. The artist was graceful and the tattoo came out well. But it was only when I got my second tattoo, years later and under very different circumstances, that I realized I had missed out the first time on the best part of the experience of getting a tattoo—collaboration.
 
I knew I should get my second tattoo because an idea compelled me. That idea was gentle victory, the survival of the prey, the ultimate triumph of the victim. I needed to affirm that idea as a part of me and the course of my life at the time I felt most hunted and victimized. I needed a tattoo talisman. But I only vaguely imagined what it might look like.
 
I knew my image didn’t exist yet, that no Google search would produce a result that could speak directly to my idea. Instead, I needed to find an artist whose work and style spoke to me. My friend Madison happened to introduce me to my eventual artist through the artist’s website, but in general I’d recommend just taking to Instagram and tumbling down a few long rabbit holes starting with #tattoo.
 
Just like reading makes you a better writer, so does scrolling through hundreds of tattoo art make you a better tattoo client. The designs of others will help you hone the idea of your personal image, and once you’ve settled on an artist, you will have much to reference as inspiration for the design they will craft for you.
 
Bit of knowledge #3: Tattoos are excellent reminders to keep perspective.  
 
It’s impossible to know if an idea/image that you are compelled by now is going to compel you for the rest of your life. Inevitably, all of us grow and change, in personality, trajectory, priority and aesthetic. The tattoo you would get at eighteen is almost certainly not the tattoo you would get at thirty-eight or eighty-eight.
 
The image I choose for my first tattoo was the symbol for Swadhishtana, the chakra associated with love, empathy, and relationships. It was very representative of that time of my life, when I was young underclassman in college nurturing new relationships and practicing a lot of yoga. I’ve experienced a lot of life since then, and much has changed, so much so that the idea of the chakra doesn’t speak to me in the way that it used to. Even so, I my chakra reminds to look back on myself and appreciate who I was in relation to who I have become, and then, to who I eventually hope to be.