I got a tattoo because I’m scared my body wouldn’t be identifiable

When I was 17 in my junior year of high school, I got my first tattoo – not out of a burning desire to display something I found to have a “deeper meaning,” or out of a pseudo-intellectual claim to be deviating from societal norms, oh hell no. I permanently inked my body because I was (am) petrified of being an unidentifiable Jane Doe should I end up murdered in the backwoods, ten miles away from an interstate Denny’s.

My perpetual identity crisis began at the ripe age of six, when I incidentally stumbled on a marathon of crime shows in pursuit of Nickelodeon. To my highly impressionable (and rather paranoid) young self, what disturbed me the most was the recurring concept of Jane Doe: an unidentifiable female victim. Upon the discovery of Jane’s body, the show’s lead detective would almost always ask something along the lines of: “Does she have any birthmarks, tattoos, or any other identifying marks on her body?” Thus began my existential spiral.

My first tattoo: I’ve always wanted a dog and my mom has always disliked the idea of living with animals (other than my dad and me of course). So, I told her I’d let the dog dream go if she came with me to sign the paperwork for my tattoo. She was ecstatic. I still wish I had a dog though.

According to a study conducted six years ago by the Pew Research Center, 72% of American adults, young and old alike, stated their tattoos are not easily visible. With ingrained stigma and stereotypes of ink, particularly in the work force, it comes as no surprise that adults tend to consciously either place the tattoo in a less visible area or cover visible tattoos with clothing. However, in a recent study conducted by the University of St. Andrews, Dr. Andrew Timming found trends suggesting employers were “more likely to select applicants with a tattoo…as a bartender in a nightclub,” as tattoos were seen to be in keeping with the demographic the employers sought to attract to their nightclubs. That is, a younger “edgier” group of adults.

My socially orthodox father grudgingly agreed to the first one because he figured that after having a needle driven into several layers of skin to form a permanent image, I would immediately regret it and consequently swear to never again ink my body. To his dismay, the day after I turned 18, I got my second tattoo.

My second tattoo: Contrary to what my father thought, the experience of getting a tattoo was exhilarating, and I became hooked rather than put off.

Despite being more intricate than the birds taking flight on my foot, my second tattoo still lacked a significant good-ol-fashioned “deeper meaning.” Hell, to be completely honest, to this day, I could not even tell you what kind of flowers are on my wrist, let alone what they mean. Upon getting the second tattoo, a common motif seemed to echo in the critical reception I received from both adults and peers: “You just didn’t seem like the type of person to get tattoos.”

Even today, this remark continues to perplex me and even at times mildly offend me. To me, inking my body brings me one step closer to being identifiable rather than a Jane Doe, and closer to turning the abstract concept of an identity into a more tangible one. For this reason, I can’t begin to fathom what self-discovery has anything to do with what “type” of person I am (my “type” being sycophantic existentialist who eats only frozen yogurt for dinner and likes the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles).

So yeah, maybe tattooed employees help bring a “younger, edgier” demographic to places like bars and clubs and sure, employees in other positions of employment cover up their ink to avoid giving the message the bars and nightclubs want to give. But in actuality, attitudes towards tattoos, especially in the workplace, are on the cusp of changing within the millennial generation. According a Huffington Post article, “86% of young professionals did not think piercings and tattoos reduce the chance of getting jobs.” At the same time, the same article cited that visible tattoos in prospective employees consistently had a “negative effect on employment selection,” suggesting that between two equally qualified candidates, the one with no visible tattoos was more likely to be selected over the one showing ink.

Even though there has been progress made in the social acceptance of tattoos, stereotypes still affect people with tattoos. After all, discrimination on the basis of body art during employee selection is by no means illegal. Yet, the basis for this stereotyping is insurmountably flawed. The fact that I have tattoos invalidates neither my intelligence level nor my ability to perform tasks asked of me, and the image an employer wants to display should be based first and foremost on the efficacy and work ethic of the employees, not their appearances.

My third tattoo: A nice surprise on a trip to New York

I got my third tattoo on an impulse when I was in New York one weekend visiting a friend because I’ve always wanted to get tattooed in different cities. So, one sunny Saturday in Greenwich Village I got my first tattoo with the “deeper meaning” my cult following had been asking about for nearly two years. Maybe I’m growing up after all.

Two things very important to me: my love of the ocean and my Iranian background. Underneath the wave is the original Persian quote, “This too shall pass” written in Farsi.

So believe it or not, I don’t get tattoos to weaken my father’s heart, or get strangers to coo, “Is it real?” as they repeatedly stroke my skin. I wouldn’t even go as far as to say I get tattoos as a means of self-expression. I get tattoos because with every bodily imprint I become more aware of my own body, more at ease knowing I can never be a Jane Doe, and more content with both my body and mind.