Ink as Identity: Turning the Intangible Tangible
Over the years, my favorite accessory has shifted from standard jewelry into something much more visceral. Unlike the earrings, necklaces, or belts that sit quietly on one’s vanity, this accessory cannot simply be found in stores and it can’t be taken off at the end of the day. It’s deliberate, personal, and entirely permanent. Etched directly into the canvas of the skin, tattoos are permanent testaments to specific moments in time.
Practiced in every part of the world, tattoos are a distinct medium of cultural identities, self expression, milestones, and reasons that may only be known by the tattooed. This practice is over 5,000 years old and is common in many different cultures for a plethora of reasons. Around the 1970s, tattoos became something more than memorabilia solely for veterans or others with similar experiences. Even then, tattoos were still considered taboo and not something widely accepted or appreciated. In the midst of the struggle for women's rights, women began getting tattoos themselves. This shed an upsetting light on women, these tattoos labeling them as “immoral” and “seductive”. According to the Brick Store Museum in Maine, “By the 1970s, tattoos amongst women grew in popularity again, thanks to the second wave of feminism that appeared in the 1960s and 70s. More recently, survivors of breast cancer have used tattooing to cover scars with elaborate works of art. These women often say that the tattoos lend them a sense of power and control that otherwise was taken away by the disease.”
My favorite part about tattoos is their profound ability to create a bridge between the internal and external world. By translating complex human experiences, such as grief, resilience, identity, or memories into visible ink, tattoo artists externalize the intangible. They capture the raw emotions that defy the spoken language and turn them into a visual structure.
This is precisely why one of my favorite tattoos of mine is so difficult to articulate. It’s a visual take of lyrics but trying to put it into words will always fall short; no explanation could ever do justice to the brilliance of Phoebe Bridger’s mind. Ultimately, some art is meant to be felt rather than cross-examined. Sometimes, it is better to simply admire the visual weight of a tattoo rather than demanding a spoken explanation for an experience that words were never meant to carry.
The cycle that comes with getting ink is an intense psychological process that is often overlooked. It demands a complex evolution of the brain's trauma response in these scenarios as it navigates a volatile mix of anticipation, dopamine, and adrenaline. Your brain enters a mind over matter state and works with your body to endure this physical toll– a pain I find to be well worth it.
So many people are hesitant about the idea of ink because of the physical distress and aches they think come along with it. I was no different. Finding myself in a sketchy parlor tucked into the basement of a restaurant, with a hanging sign that bashes people for tapping certainly didn’t ease my anxiety. Luckily, biology took over. My brain flooded my system with endorphins, the brain’s painkillers and mood elevators. I always tell people that it feels like a cat scratch.
While different parts of the body dictate varying pain tolerance levels, they also carry distinct, symbolic weight. Placing ink on the left side of your chest is a deliberate way to keep a person, memory, or philosophy close to your heart whereas a tattoo behind the ear symbolizes a more guarded, personal intimacy. Conversely, tattoos along the arms are a bold declaration of your beliefs, serving as an open invitation for curiosity. My tattoos– seven of them to be exact– are consciously mapped up and down both my arms, the left one being slightly more filled in. To articulate the meaning behind the art isn't just small talk; it’s a gateway to a rare sense of intimacy and profound personal connection with people.
Tattoos, no matter the meaning, are far more than just a physical change but a unique journey that the mind and body take together. No matter if it’s a piece of art I’ve had on my Pinterest board since you were 13, or a flash sale design I saw 20 minutes before I found myself sitting in the chair, with every tattoo I get I discover a newfound resilience with myself. Despite having tattoos that aren’t my most cherished, each one is a permanent chapter of my story and a personal reminder of what I’ve experienced and the meaningful connections I’ve made along the way.
About the author: PK is a freshman studying advertising, art & technology, and science communication. She loves collecting tattoos, listening to Phoebe Bridgers, seeing Broadway musicals, and calling herself a coffee connoisseur. She is passionate about writing, art direction, and travel journalism and hopes to pursue any of these in New York City one day!