Throughout 2025 I’ve been exploring who I am, deep down. Away from the social anxiety that tells me that I have to be a certain way or please everyone but myself. The idea of getting a tattoo started off as just a small seed of possibility. It grew until I pushed through that anxiety to contact a few artists and ultimately made an appointment.
I sent the photos in the banner to Jewel as reference and let her take the design from there. The first photo is my actual heart, drawn by my doctor when I was very young. The second is a drawing done by my very own Squirrel when I expressed what I envisioned.
Jewel gave me several dates to choose from to make my appointment. When I saw that January 6th was an option, I knew that was the perfect date. Kim, my best friend, passed away two years ago on that date. She is a part of my heart and my journey, and I couldn’t possibly have planned a better day. It felt as if she was with me as I arrived, even if she wouldn’t have gotten a tattoo herself (though I suspect she would have wanted to).
Jewel showed me the design, and it was perfect. I had tried not to imagine what the final design would look like in an effort to not be disappointed, and I was blown away how much it captured elements of both photos.
Having never gotten a tattoo before, I didn’t know what to expect at all. I tried not to imagine excruciating pain that would cause me to grit my teeth but couldn’t help feeling anxious about how it would feel. To my pleasant surprise, it was not bad at all. Even though the process took around two hours, it never became overly painful. Sure, it was a little uncomfortable at times, but it really wasn’t bad. Perhaps that’s because I chose my shoulder blade, where there are fewer nerve endings. Or maybe it’s just my pain tolerance from years of medical poking and prodding. Whatever the reason, Jewel forgot it was my first tattoo and said I was handling it like a boss.
Here’s to a 2026 filled with new adventures and more authenticity. If only Kim was here to enjoy the ride with me.
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