I got a tattoo when I was 22 years old. Of a tiny pink 5-petal flower. In the (formerly) concave area on my right hip. Easily hidden under even the skimpiest of underwear. What a rebel I was--me with my hidden tattoo!
At the time when I got it, I thought that my right hip was a sexy spot for a tattoo.
Of course, what would become of this tattoo during and after pregnancy was nowhere on my radar screen.
Having a tattoo on my hip felt like a dirty little secret. Like wearing ultra lacy underwear that no one could see but me. (I am laughing HYSTERICALLY as I write this...because it's true that I thought this...and because it's so NOT DIRTY...I was pretty naive at 22!)
Anyhow, after two I-gained-50-pounds-each pregnancies, my tattoo is not as fresh and cute and tight and sexy as it used to be. It's been stretched and distorted, and even though my belly has shrunk back in its own way (IN ITS OWN WAY!), my tattoo has never fully recovered.
And yet, I still love my naive little pseudo-rebel tattoo.
It still feels like a secret. My secret. My former life. The "me" my kids will never know...
Shhh....
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