The walls were painted lime green, which I thought was a horrible design choice. I thought it was a horrible choice of wall color for anyone over the age of fourteen.

“Sweetie, you’re gonna be fine I promise! Just take a deep breath. It doesn’t hurt nearly as bad as you think it will.” Sarah reassured as she scooted around the waxed floors on her swivel stool, readying her supplies. I shot her a weak smile and turned away. I really didn’t want to see what kind of supplies exactly Sarah was going to use. I apologized profusely for being nervous, and Sarah calmed me and told me there was nothing to worry about, that everyone was nervous the first time. Thank God for Sarah. I focused my attention on the people I could see outside from the window, lit only by the glow of the street lamps.

“Ya know, people say these are addicting…” Sarah said knowingly and motioned for me to lay down.

“Ready?” she asked. I responded with a minute nod of my head.

It was a bit of a cliché, a young person feeling lost and confused so they decide to get a tattoo. But maybe clichés are clichés because they hold some truth. The needle buzzed and began to tug and pinch at my skin. I abandoned watching the people from the window and shut my eyes tightly.

Freshman year of high school, I tagged along with my friends to a show at a small bar/café called Jammin’ Java down the street from my best friend’s house. I thought it would be cool to listen to music at a dark and smoky bar like people do on TV. The entertainment that night was a singer/songwriter duo calling themselves Berrett & Harrison. Taylor Berrett and Matthew Harrison turned out to be only a few years older than me and my friends, so I wasn’t expecting their music to be anything special. Their mastery of the guitar and beautiful harmonies shocked me, it was unlike anything I had ever heard before. Their lyrics flowed beautifully, verse into verse, song into song, each one more heartfelt than the last. Her favorite one was called “grow down.” It was sad; a lament for the simplicity of childhood that none of us could ever get back. It broke her heart.

“All done!” Sarah’s voice pulled me from her thoughts.

“Oh, Thank God!” I smiled with relief and clapped my hands together.

“Why don’t you stand up and take a look?”

I stood up with my shirt still pulled up and walked over to the corner of the room where a tall mirror was propped against the door. I twisted around until I saw the words grow down in small cursive on the upper left part of my back. I felt pride that I hadn’t felt since I was little and won second place in the school geography bee. It looked so right on me. Smiling down at her newly inked skin, I felt I became a little bit more myself.