5 Life-Changing Lessons From My First Tattoo in My 30s
Changing Your Body to Change Your Mind
You don't really get tattoos until you're under the needle yourself.
I used to be the poster child for the "no tattoo" club. I wore my blank skin like a badge of honor, silently judging those with ink. But there I was, lying on the tattoo artist's chair, heart pounding as the needle buzzed to life. As the first line etched into my skin, something clicked - it was much more than a design taking shape.
Here are the five things I learned when I finally took the plunge.
1. Tattoos Are Also What You Don’t See
Once a tattoo skeptic, I've crossed to the other side. Growing up in a family that frowned upon tattoos, I never imagined I'd get one myself.
A tattoo is more than just ink on skin. It's a statement, a memory, a piece of your story made visible.
I've learned that tattoos are multifaceted:
Self-expression: Visual echoes of our inner worlds.
Identity: Permanent bookmarks in life's grand novel.
Confidence: Bold affirmations of self-acceptance.
But they hold a dual nature:
On the surface: A voluntary scar.
Beneath: An ocean of personal significance.
Tattoos aren't acts of disrespect against the body. They're intimate celebrations of one's journey.
2. Invisible Ink
The world of body art creates an invisible divide: the inked and the uninked.
Permanent decisions make us feel uneasy. We're all afraid of regret. But what if I told you that avoiding decisions is the biggest regret of all?
But even among the tattoo-free, there's a split. They come in two flavors based on their true motive:
Desire: Some proudly wave the flag of the Zero Tattoo Group (ZTG), content in their unmarked skin.
Regret: ZTG members but not by choice, they are held back by the whispers of "what if?"
My parents? ZTG members.
Dad's not a fan. He wears his bare skin like a badge of honor.
Mom? She's dreamed of a dolphin on her belly for years, but fear always wins: Never got it.
Fear is Mom's unwanted tattoo—invisible, yet ever-present. Pain, inconvenience, cost, design choices—each a drop of phantom ink that paralyzes her.
Decision-making isn't my mom's strong suit, especially when it comes to the irreversible. Her default response? Inaction. Stay safe.
But here's the irony: Life keeps tattooing us with experiences, whether we choose them or not. Time's needle never lifts from our skin.
All decisions are irreversible.
Nothing Stays The Same
As an immigrant, I've learned this lesson hard. Sometimes I daydream about going back home. But here's the catch: That home doesn't exist anymore.
Friends moved on
I've changed
They've changed
Everything changes. Always.
Moving to a country changes your perspective and cultural experiences. You can move back, but you're not the same person who left.
The Argentina in my memories? It's just that - memories. I could physically go back, sure. But places evolve too, just slower and that creates an illusion of permanence.
It's only an illusion.
3. What’s Your Tattoo Story?
I love asking people about their tattoos. It's amazing how much you can learn about someone from a bit of ink on their skin.
When you look at one, you're not just looking at a design. You're getting a peek into someone's life story.
When I was a teenager I read The Illustrated Man by Ray Bradbury. It’s about a carnival freak who is extensively tattooed and each one is animated. Each one tells you a different tale.
But now I realize: Bradbury wasn't far off. Our tattoos really are our stories, frozen in time on our skin. And we love stories.
My Tattoo Tale
My tattoo is a mate - that's a traditional drink from Argentina. It's not just a drink, though. It's a whole ritual, a piece of home.
Why a mate? Well, the longer I've been away from home, the more I've started to appreciate where I come from. It's funny how time and distance can change how you see things. Not everything back home was as great (or as bad) as I used to think.
Mate is something I carry with me everywhere. So having it on my skin just felt right.
When I decided to get the tattoo, I looked up "mate tattoos" online. But I didn't like what I saw. They all looked too... cliché. I wanted something simpler, more me.
Now I had some vague idea of what I wanted. It was time to practice surrendering.
Surrendering To The Artist
I picked an artist whose style clicked with me: thin, minimalist, monochromatic lines.
As a customer, you get to guide the artist. How much? That's up to you. Your input includes deciding how much creative freedom they get.
The artist asked for a photo, and then... silence. We didn't talk again until the big day.
I was letting someone draw on my skin, and I had no clue what it would look like. Was I being reckless? Is this how it usually goes? No idea - it was my first rodeo. YOLO, right?
The day came. She showed me a carbon copy of the picture I'd sent her. I loved it.
I wasn't just getting a mate on my skin. I was getting my mate.
It's personal. It's unique. It's me.
4. Vampire Choices
Some choices are impossible to understand until you experience them.
From The Second Mountain by David Brooks:
Let’s say you had the chance to become a vampire. With one magical bite you would gain immortality, superhuman strength, and a life of glamorous intensity. You’d have all sorts of new skills. You could fly around at night.
Friends who have undergone the experience say it is incredible. They claim that as vampires they experience the world in new ways they couldn’t have imagined back when they were human.
Would you do it? Would you consent to receive that life-altering bite, knowing that once changed you could never go back?
The difficulty of the choice is that you have to use your human self to try to guess if you would enjoy being a vampire self.
This is the sort of choice that changes who you are. Life is filled with vampire problems. Marriage turns you into a different person. Having kids changes who you are and what you want. So does emigrating to a new country, converting to a different religion, going to med school, joining the Marines, changing careers, and deciding on where to live.
Every time you commit to something big, you are making a transformational choice.
9 comes before 10
A tattoo is a vampire choice: You have to get one to truly know if you like them.
My biggest fear about leaving the Zero Tattoo Group (ZTG) was that I'd never met anyone with just one tattoo.
It seemed like people either had zero or ten.
I didn't want ten, but again, this is a vampire choice. Before reaching ten, they got their ninth and were happy with it.
No one forces you to get tattoos. It was only after I got mine that I understood it was not such a big deal.
And the moment I got my first, I already knew what my second would be.
5. This Matters To Me Right Now
Tattoos aren't just an adornment for the body—they're a big middle finger to the idea that anything stays the same.
Think about it. Your hometown changes. You change. Even your favorite coffee shop might not be there next time you visit.
But a tattoo? That's you saying, "This. This matters to me right now."
Stop waiting for the "perfect" time to do something bold. Whether it's getting inked, quitting your job, or moving to a new country, you'll never really know how it feels until you do it.
Why not take the lead and decide what marks you want to leave?
Because trust me, you're more likely to regret the stories you don't tell than the ones you do. Even if they're written in permanent ink.