I’ve always admired tattoos—from a distance. The intricate designs, the deep personal meanings, the artistry that goes into them—it’s all fascinating. But here’s the thing: I will never, ever get one. Not because I don’t appreciate them, but because I am, without a doubt, the worst possible candidate for a tattoo.

First, let’s talk about the obvious: I hate needles. Not in a casual, “Oh, I don’t like getting shots” kind of way. No, I mean full-blown, anxiety-inducing dread at the mere thought of a needle puncturing my skin. I avoid vaccines longer than I should, I close my eyes during blood tests, and if a doctor even hints at the word “injection,” I need a moment to breathe. So, the idea of voluntarily sitting in a chair while a needle repeatedly jabs into my skin for hours? Absolutely not.

Beyond the needle fear, I’m just not a tattoo person. Some people love the idea of permanent art on their bodies, but for me, the commitment is too much. What if I change my mind? What if I get tired of it? What if, years down the road, the design doesn’t feel like me anymore? I change my phone wallpaper every few weeks because I get bored—how could I possibly trust myself to choose a design that will be on my body forever?

I also respect the pain tolerance of those who do get tattoos because, from everything I’ve heard, it’s no walk in the park. People say, “Oh, it’s not that bad,” but let’s be honest—pain is pain. If I can barely handle a paper cut, I don’t think I’d last ten minutes under a tattoo gun.

That being said, I have nothing against tattoos. I love seeing them on other people and hearing the stories behind them. But for me? No thanks. I’ll stick to admiring from afar, safe in my needle-free, commitment-free comfort zone.

And honestly? I’m perfectly okay with that.

Daily writing prompt

What tattoo do you want and where would you put it?

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