But deciding to embrace who you are isn’t something you just do once — loving yourself is a journey, not a destination. Since I started at Revelist, I’ve done emotional work I didn’t even know I had to do in order to love myself and my body fully and completely.
But despite all that, there’s one body insecurity that I’ve never been able to shake… until now.
I was 14 when someone called me “bacne” for the first (but not the last) time, and that idea that my imperfect, blemished skin was disgusting and shameful really took its toll.
Up until very recently, I never wore backless dresses or low tank tops. I had long hair for YEARS because I felt like I needed to be able to “cover” this part of me that I disliked so much. I wouldn’t let people touch my back, not even accidentally. I for sure never looked at it in a mirror.
And yes, I used a lot of makeup to hide the things I hated the most.
This insecurity and self-loathing had grown so powerful that it was controlling a lot about who I was and how I existed — what I wore, how I had my hair, how I lived my damn life.
So I decided that it was time for a drastic change.
This tattoo, I decided, would change the conversation I’d been having about my body my entire life. So, at age 32, I went to work to conquer my biggest body issue once and for all.
Real talk: When I walked into the shop for the first time, I was absolutely terrified. Despite wanting my back tattooed for such a long time, finally taking steps to get started was SO SCARY. But Amanda put me at ease right away with her kindness and honesty, two things that are absolutely essential in a tattoo artist, IMO.
Seriously. There were a few depigmented patches and deep scars on my back that I definitely wanted covered, so the design incorporated those. I don’t really do color in my wardrobe, so we kept it grayscale.
Everything else was entirely up to her. I didn’t see the finished design until I walked in for my first appointment — and it was perfect.
I had to moisturize my new tattoo and feel the rough acne scars under my fingers.
I had to look in the mirror to make sure the entire thing was healing properly, without silently hating the brown moles and freckles.
I had to touch my back for the first time in my entire life, and allow my back to be touched by others — and it was truly strange. I realized how much I’d been actively avoiding because of my insecurity.
People who feel like they can touch you without your consent are an entire other post, but for now, I’ll say — DO NOT stroke, grab, or touch people’s tattoos. It’s fucking weird.
Because that was a surprise for me.
Once again, Amanda was a wonderful champion who talked to me about Taco Bell, The Presets, and dogs while she shaded my roses and made me feel even more beautiful. Five and a half hours later, I was shaking all over and was slowly going into shock — but my roses were officially done.
I couldn’t be happier.
My biggest insecurity has gone from being a mess of emotional pain and spiritual ugliness into something truly beautiful.
And, while I’m not exactly “over” the years of mocking and self-hatred, this glorious tattoo has at least helped me put it in perspective — far, far away.
title: “My Rose Tattoo Helped Me Overcome By Body Insecurities” ShowToc: true date: “2024-09-11” author: “Trudi Powell”
But deciding to embrace who you are isn’t something you just do once — loving yourself is a journey, not a destination. Since I started at Revelist, I’ve done emotional work I didn’t even know I had to do in order to love myself and my body fully and completely.
But despite all that, there’s one body insecurity that I’ve never been able to shake… until now.
I was 14 when someone called me “bacne” for the first (but not the last) time, and that idea that my imperfect, blemished skin was disgusting and shameful really took its toll.
Up until very recently, I never wore backless dresses or low tank tops. I had long hair for YEARS because I felt like I needed to be able to “cover” this part of me that I disliked so much. I wouldn’t let people touch my back, not even accidentally. I for sure never looked at it in a mirror.
And yes, I used a lot of makeup to hide the things I hated the most.
This insecurity and self-loathing had grown so powerful that it was controlling a lot about who I was and how I existed — what I wore, how I had my hair, how I lived my damn life.
So I decided that it was time for a drastic change.
This tattoo, I decided, would change the conversation I’d been having about my body my entire life. So, at age 32, I went to work to conquer my biggest body issue once and for all.
Real talk: When I walked into the shop for the first time, I was absolutely terrified. Despite wanting my back tattooed for such a long time, finally taking steps to get started was SO SCARY. But Amanda put me at ease right away with her kindness and honesty, two things that are absolutely essential in a tattoo artist, IMO.
Seriously. There were a few depigmented patches and deep scars on my back that I definitely wanted covered, so the design incorporated those. I don’t really do color in my wardrobe, so we kept it grayscale.
Everything else was entirely up to her. I didn’t see the finished design until I walked in for my first appointment — and it was perfect.
I had to moisturize my new tattoo and feel the rough acne scars under my fingers.
I had to look in the mirror to make sure the entire thing was healing properly, without silently hating the brown moles and freckles.
I had to touch my back for the first time in my entire life, and allow my back to be touched by others — and it was truly strange. I realized how much I’d been actively avoiding because of my insecurity.
People who feel like they can touch you without your consent are an entire other post, but for now, I’ll say — DO NOT stroke, grab, or touch people’s tattoos. It’s fucking weird.
Because that was a surprise for me.
Once again, Amanda was a wonderful champion who talked to me about Taco Bell, The Presets, and dogs while she shaded my roses and made me feel even more beautiful. Five and a half hours later, I was shaking all over and was slowly going into shock — but my roses were officially done.
I couldn’t be happier.
My biggest insecurity has gone from being a mess of emotional pain and spiritual ugliness into something truly beautiful.
And, while I’m not exactly “over” the years of mocking and self-hatred, this glorious tattoo has at least helped me put it in perspective — far, far away.
