Shaquana Garris

Tattoos can tell a lot about the person who wear them

Tattoo’s are one of the world’s most artistic way of self expression. Whether you have them because they look pretty or because it holds meaning that is dear to you. I myself have 37, give or take a few depending on how you count them. However, this story is about two of them. My all time favorite would be my very first tattoo. Nothing too big and fancy, just a little butterfly with a tiger as a face. To me, it means a lot. Everyone always asks how can something so simple and trivial can possibly be important enough to want to etch it into my skin forever. Well the simple answer is, it’s symbolic. However, today I will give the explained version. The butterfly stands for the fragile state of my mind, body, and mental while I was in an abusive situationship. the tiger face represent the buried strength I had to not end myself, to wake up every morning and not leave my children orphaned. As a whole it stands as a memory of what was and how far I came from that, growth and progress, a well as a reminder that I’m no longer a victim and that I’m free from the clutches of an evil that could’ve and almost succeeded at taking my life, and my sanity. Now on to tattoo number 2. This tattoo in particular has a funny story behind it and a deep meaning. This tatto was strategically placed to cover up a, what was I thinking moment. Let me take you back to a time, when YouTube challenges was in their prime. It was the time of the chubby bunny challenge, the cinnamon challenge, and the challenge that scarred me for life, the salt and ice challenge. My sister along with my little cousin, I shall refer to them as the spawns of satan, came to me with the challenge with the biggest smiles on their faces. I should’ve took that as a hint and ran for the hills, however, I chose to go along with it. We gathered the materials, salt, ice, and a rag, so now we set and ready to begin. I spread the salt on my wrist and add the ice. Satan’s spawns laughed, but I had no idea why. Nothing was happening at this point. Next thing I know they grabbed the rag and put it on top of the ice and squeezed, before I knew it I screamed out in agonizing pain. My skin literally felt like it was burning but cold. After a tear dropped and they let go. I had a huge frost bite that left welts, but that was it nothing more nothing less, so I felt as if I came, conquered, and crushed this challenge. Oh was I mistaken, three hours later my skin started to peel. A hour later I was in the emergency room at children’s hospital with a fourth degree chemical burn that burned through a tendon, a stupid look on my face, and a heart full of regret. I was told that if my skin healed it would be discolored forever, and were they right. I ended up with a huge, and hideous discolored scar. after a while I got tired of looking at it and wanted it covered. What better way to cover a scar, than with some sick ink. So I sat in a corner and came up with a design that I feel do exactly what I needed it to. Called up my friend for some ink therapy, and together we made magic.