“Any life event can be a reason for a tattoo,” says Jo Ann Atwood, a tattoo artist at Avalon Tattoo II in San Diego. Atwood is carrying on a tradition that has existed nearly as long as we have. Consider the neolithic mummy named Ötzi with a series of lines etched into his skin who died five millennia ago, or the mummies of ancient Egypt tattooed with spiritual symbols like the Eye of Horus. Today, one-third of Americans have a tattoo, making the art form decidedly mainstream. They weren’t always so—a full leg sleeve on a suburban stay-at-home dad would have been unimaginable in the 1800s, when sailors and servicemen were among the first Americans to get body art inspired by the Polynesian tatau markings they saw overseas.
As a good-luck charms, for protection, or as status symbols, the reasons behind tattoos are as diverse as the people who get them. There are matching best-friend tattoos, silly birthday tattoos, “Est. 1989” tattoos, mom-and-daughter tattoos, touching memorial tattoos, even intergenerational tattoos inking someone with the same piece as an ancestor. They can serve as expansive self-expression or be purely ornamental. Sometimes, clients know exactly what they’re looking for, but often, the artwork is born out of therapeutic collaboration with the artist, channeling the circ*mstances that led them into the chair.
“I find it moving when people share their transformations with me,” Atwood says. “Let’s say I’m tattooing a piece on someone who tells me they’re no longer in a relationship where they’re being abused, belittled, or questioned. I feel liberated too, because I get to play a part in that release.”
Here, nine people share the personal stories behind their tattoos, and how they used body art to confront the past and come into their present selves.
Marking a fresh start
Alison Quaglia, 37
(Photo courtesy of self. Tattoo by Talia Migliaccio.)
“I received these hand-poked tattoos after a period of immense life change. I had left a very toxic job that was taking a huge toll on my mental health. I was really tired of bouncing around to different low-paying freelance and temp jobs. Taking some time to reflect on what I wanted my days to look like, I found that a lot of it matched up with a career in tech. I purposefully only applied to jobs that were remote, on the West Coast, or international. I moved away from my family to the high deserts of the Southwest, which has its own unique culture and landscape. My partner and I ended up buying our first house, which was another huge undertaking and change.
My tattoo artist is very unique in that her tattoos are intuitive and drawn freehand, so I had no idea what they would look like ahead of time. She captured my desire to put down roots, find grounding, and express gratitude for the journey.”
Surviving domestic violence
Angela Accomando, 44
(Photo courtesy of self. Tattoo artist unknown.)
“I got this tattoo 13 years ago, after leaving a violent marriage. The key reminds me of the fact that I hold the power. I’m in control of my life. The key to close the door to my past is in my hands, and so is the key to my future. I am proud to have worked on a related law passed in 2019. I lobbied it myself and worked with my senator and assemblyman to get legislation passed that allows domestic violence victims to report abuse to any law enforcement agency in New York State.”
Remembering my four-legged babies
Charlotte Twine, 53
(Photo courtesy of self. Tattoo by Brian Diaz.)
“Tattoos are a huge part of my journey to self-love and self-acceptance. My latest one commemorates my two beloved dogs who died last spring. I had them for 17 years, and I loved them beyond compare. I have no children, so they were my babies. They got me through divorce, deaths of loved ones, illness, and a hurricane.
This was my first hand tattoo. I love it so much, especially when paired with long black, shiny fingernails. I got the tattoo in that spot because that way my dogs are still in my line of sight constantly. I love the fact that it’s on my dominant hand because it was the hand I used to cuddle them and take care of them.”
Showing my Jewish-mom pride
Elizabeth Stein Gray, 38
(Photo courtesy of self. Tattoo by Sara Antoinette Martin.)
“The tattoo is my son’s Hebrew name, also my grandfather’s Hebrew name. I have an Irish symbol on the other wrist that I got with my half-Irish mom when I was 18, and I wanted something visibly Jewish to complement it. Having Isaac was intense. I almost died in childbirth and had a really hard time in recovery, so it felt good to reclaim some control over my own body while also celebrating motherhood.”
Celebrating my sobriety
Leigh Frank, 51
(Photo courtesy of self. Tattoo by Jill Krznaric.)
“I’ve been sober for over four years now. I got the tattoo of a woman diving into a teacup first. The metaphor was supposed to be me immersing myself in the serenity of a lovely cup of tea, as opposed to the chaos that went along with alcohol use. But after I got that one, it didn’t feel like the story was complete. I started thinking about what the first half of my story would look like—and I felt like hitting rock bottom was very much like getting shot out of a cannon, hence the skull and crossbones. Now I feel like my tattoos tell the whole story.”
Rediscovering my sexuality
Nefertiti Moore, 47
(Photo courtesy of self. Tattoo by Will Tran.)
“I am having my sexual experimentation phase at 47. I was in a relationship, and I thought we were monogamous, but he wasn’t being ethical. After that experience, I became disenchanted. I waited 18 months before putting myself out there again. Now that I have taken control of my dating life, I find that I want to experiment. I’ve always had relationships with multiple people, and polyamory was easy for me to wrap my head around once I figured out that I was dating that way anyway. It’s funny because none of this feels new—it feels like I am finally owning it. Traditionally, a unicorn is a bisexual person who joins couples. I am not bisexual, but I am polyamorous and interested in exploring group sex. However, the tattoo has a double meaning for me: I am becoming the mythical creature I’ve always been.”
Reclaiming my power after cancer
Sandra Roldan, 40
(Photo and tattoo by Sasha Woland.)
“I got this dark butterfly tattoo almost exactly one year to the day after finishing treatment for breast cancer. There is a lot of butterfly imagery in the cancer world because of the idea of rebirth after treatment. Butterflies have always seemed really girly and ‘live, laugh, love’ cliché to me. My own style is what many might refer to as goth, and my experience was definitely not cute. Adding powerful ornamentation like the crescent moon and triangle motif fit more with my interest in the divine feminine. It’s a symbol of power as well as rebirth.”
Smashing cultural expectations
Yun Yu Quinn, 36
(Photo courtesy of self. Tattoo by Jay Shin.)
“Turning 30 was a huge challenge for me. I felt like I was sooo behind on my timeline. At 31, when I got this tattoo, I was much more comfortable in my skin. I joke that I lacked wisdom, so I got the word in Chinese tattooed on me, but I think that’s when my wisdom kicked in. I wanted to show that women can be wise and they shouldn’t hide it from their counterparts because it’s more appropriate to be modest. Yes, Chinese culture has done a number on me! It was an act of self-love, breaking away from family expectations and society’s norms.”
Honoring my body on my terms
Talia Hoskin*
(Photo courtesy of self. Tattoo by Jo Ann Atwood.)
“I was diagnosed with stage III triple-negative breast cancer at 32 weeks pregnant. It was, ironically, the day after my maternity photo shoot. I had an emergency C-section at 35 weeks and started chemo two weeks after that. After six months of IV chemo, I had a double mastectomy. Then, after 35 rounds of radiation, I had a total hysterectomy, followed by eight more months of oral chemo. My son’s first year of life was a complete haze to me. I was so tired. Facing your mortality every single day is exhausting. By the time I considered breast reconstruction, I’d already had so many surgeries, I decided to stay flat. But I always knew I wanted a mastectomy tattoo. I felt like, They can cut me up and do whatever it takes, but I want to put something there on my own terms. I got the tattoo through Personal Ink (P.ink), a program organized by the nonprofit f*ck Cancer, which connects breast cancer survivors with tattoo artists. The art is beautiful, and the pain was worth it. I’m really happy when I see it poking out of my tank top.” *Not her real name.
