Ink and Memory: The Story Behind My First Tattoo”

There are moments in life that shift everything. For me, it was the season after high school—when the dust of graduation settled and I found myself standing at the edge of change. I was moving again. My world looked completely different. I didn’t have all the answers—I barely had any—but I knew I needed to do something that felt like mine.

That was also when my biological father passed away.

We weren’t very close, but his death carved a space in me I didn’t expect. And at the same time, my relationship with my mom wasn’t strong either. I felt alone—adrift in a moment where everything was changing, and no one really understood how much I was hurting.

So, I decided to get my first tattoos. Two of them, actually—one for each parent.

For my mother, I chose two dolphins forming a heart. It symbolized love and connection, the kind I wanted us to have. For my father, I designed a teddy bear—because I still have his childhood teddy bear, and I named him Mr. Jingle Butts. I added his birth and death dates to the tag on the bear’s chest: 1971–2011.

The experience wasn’t scary—it was empowering. I got both tattoos on my back, and after three or four hours of buzzing needles and quiet reflection, I walked out knowing something important: this was more than just ink. This was expression. This was art. This was me taking control of how I wanted to remember, how I wanted to heal, and how I wanted to be.

Since then, I’ve used both art and tattoos as a way to tell my story. To show my grief, my growth, and my grit. Every line I draw or wear is a reminder that I’m still here. Still learning. Still becoming. And that’s something worth showing off.

We all have our own ways of remembering. This is mine.