When I got my first tattoo at 19, I never knew I would turn out to be the full freak that I am today. It happened one piece at a time until they all just connected into one giant tattoo. When I look in the mirror, I don't really see them. It just looks normal to me. The reaction of people I come into contact with makes me completely aware of my tattoos. The more heavily tattooed I become, the stronger the reaction. Sometimes the reaction is good, sometimes...not so much. I could easily write a book with several volumes based on all the random experiences I have had because of my tattoos. Thanks to shows like Miami Ink, the world has become much kinder when it comes to heavily tattooed women. But just like racism... There will always be assholes in the world that feel like it is their duty to ruin my day because they don't like what I have done to my skin. They all seem to know exactly why I did it too. I mostly hear I did it for shock value or attention. Maybe I hate my mom or she hates me and I'm just doing it to hurt her...ya know rebel and shit. It's funny, because I have heard that is also the reason I dress funny or prefer women over men. It seems I got dealt every freak card in the deck. Sometimes, it really pisses me off. Why couldn't I be a straight girl who likes tattoos or a lesbian who doesn't. Some days, it seems like everything I love seems weird to the masses. And they all feel the need to voice their opinion about it. My favorite accusation is that I do it for attention. This blows me away since many people who don't know me think I'm a bitch because I don't make eye contact and don't possess the ability to bullshit and make small talk to people I don't know. It doesn't help that when I'm not smiling, I look angry. I can't help it people...that's just my face! The truth is I have horrible stranger danger. I'm painfully shy. The irony is that I'm a fitness instructor and personal trainer. My job requires me to talk to strangers all day. I do my best to make my current clients happy to ensure I won't have to get new ones. I didn't sleep for the first two years that I was teaching classes. My favorite seat in any classroom, restaurant, bus or any where is the furthest corner in the back row. I wear long sleeves all the time to cut down an some of the stares. People say if you didn't want the attention, you shouldn't have done it. That's like saying a woman deserves to be raped because of the clothes she is or isn't wearing. It's total bullshit. What I do to my body has no effect on anybody else's life...but there are some that are DEEPLY effected. This little blog will be all about those people. The good, bad and downright ugly. Some of it is tragic, but a lot of it is just hilarious. It's never boring, that's for sure. Stay tuned for the next chapter entitled "The People of Walmart". It's action packed!
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