I had a video conference call with the executive team at work yesterday, and while I was rummaging through my closet trying to find something appropriate to wear, I hesitated when I went to grab a capped sleeve top. You see, I’m in an upper management position and work with a lot of conservative people. Like SUPER conservative. I also have a tattooed half sleeve, plus a smattering of others. Ever since I started getting them, I’ve recognized a change in certain behaviors around me. There’s an initial hesitation from some of the moms at my daughter’s playgroups, and some people seem less inclined to chat with me in line at Target.

Why do we automatically associate tattoos with a lack of intelligence or education? Why does it automatically make people assume that I ride around on the back of a Harley Davidson flipping people off with a cigarette hanging out of my mouth? I’m a college educated, successful business woman and full blown mom. I drive a Honda Pilot because it’s reliable, has great gas mileage and let’s be honest- is basically one step away from a minivan. I cook with kale. We don’t own a motorcycle, we pay our taxes, and I go to bed at nine. I am not what you think I am at first glance.

These tattoos are badges of honor to me – pieces of life that I struggled to get through, and memories of those who have left me. My newest piece is the bouquet I held as I walked down the aisle to say “I do” forever and ever. My arm piece represents my long journey to motherhood. The woman in it is me, and the owl is a symbol of my struggles with infertility. Sprigs of purple asters up the side are my daughter’s birth flowers. That Cessna on the my back? It’s the one that my dad flew passionately until he passed away 5 years ago. Getting that tattoo was the only thing that made me comfortable not wearing the necklace with his initials on it after he died. This is my story as art on my body. Instead of spending thousands of dollars on something to hang on my wall and where I can only admire it when I’m in that room, I spent that much to have it with me always. I spent years deciding what I wanted and I know it’s going to be on my body forever. I’m not an idiot.

It gets taken next level when we hit the town as a family. We live in the suburbs, and because of this are considered pretty “edgy”. My husband is covered pretty much head to toe. Legs, arms, chest, neck. No he’s not going to steal your wallet. No he’s never been to prison. He’s an amazing (and oh so sexy thanks to those tats) father and husband. He mows the lawn every Saturday and does the dishes. He plays barbies with our daughter and has a successful career. We are a typical family that goes to the zoo, makes crafts and watches Frozen 300 times in a day.

Will I get more? Absolutely. In true suburban mom fashion I have a Pinterest board packed full of ideas. I also won’t have to worry that my daughter will come back from Cancun with a terribly done flower cross tramp stamp surrounded by blown out and impossible to cover up tribal. She’s been raised with a respect and appreciation for the art. And her mom and dad will know exactly all of the best artists in town once she’s mature and ready enough…..that is if she ever wants one.

So to the lady side eyeing me over the bin of organic bananas at Whole Foods – I’m not going to judge you for not having tattoos. So don’t judge me for having them. Don’t make me worry that my next promotion may not happen because of the beautiful art I have on my body. Don’t assume I’m a terrible mother……..honestly don’t assume anything. I don’t need to prove myself to you or anyone else. Because what makes us different is also what makes us beautiful.