Welcome to #TransTuesday! Today we’re talking about something a LOT of people have asked me about: MY TATTOO. And what may surprise you is that it’s 100% tied in with my transition, because what this is really about is: BODILY AUTONOMY.
Back in April of 2022, I went in two three-hour sessions to get my first tattoo. And it’s pretty big, it covers the entire outside of my right arm. And that only seems fitting because I have this trait of throwing my whole ass right into everything my first time.
No small one on my ankle, nothing hidden where you won’t see it. This is huge and highly visible. And that’s just kind of the way I am. When I first had the idea to make audio dramas, before “podcasts” were even a thing, did I start with just one? Okay, yes. BUT-
To do so I decided to just found an entire company, Pendant Productions, because from the very beginning I knew it wouldn’t be JUST one. One day it wasn’t a thing I did, and the next day it was a thing I did a LOT, all the time. This happened with writing. This happened when I met Susan!
It even happened when I picked my new, true name. Sure I thought about it for a while, considered different options, but then I hit on Tilly and I knew it. That was IT. And I never looked back. No need to try any others. I just threw my entire self at it.
You can read more about that in the trans tuesday on NAMES AND PRONOUNS.
And you can even see it in the pre-coffee thoughts I post across all my social media every morning while I’m waiting for the caffeine to hit me. One day I did it on a lark because I thought it was funny, and I’ve just… done it every single morning since. And I love it! But anyway.
All my life I thought tattoos were cool (because they are, and LADIES with tats are certified HAWT). But I never ever thought about getting one, never wanted one for myself, didn’t understand how anyone could want something on their body for the rest of their lives.
I didn’t know WHY I felt like that. And I didn’t know WHY that changed suddenly a few years before my coming out when I knew I really wanted one, even though I didn’t yet know exactly what it would be.
In fact, it wasn’t even until I’d set things in motion to obtain it… found an artist, discussed the design, had a consulting session, and booked the first appointment that I even really realized it was tied in with my transition.
But it is, in absolutely every way. To be clear, I don’t think I needed this tattoo to fully transition to the woman I’ve always wanted to be (and have always been on the inside), but I DID need it to fully transition to the real ME I’ve always been.
And this is why I say it’s complicated, because the ME I am IS a woman. Waaaay back when I first started trans tuesdays I mentioned figuring out I was trans was like untying a giant knot, because so many (likely EVERY) aspect of my life was intertwined with it.
So it’s all connected in ways I’ve tried to explain, ways I can’t explain, and ways I don’t even still fully understand myself. This is why I repeatedly tell you that trans people likely know themselves better than anyone else on earth knows themselves. Because we HAVE TO.
There’s no other way to shed the expectations and baggage of the cis binary matrix of society to become who we’ve always really been. But I digress (but only kind of, because again, it’s all connected).
If you want a little more on the things society saddles us with, which are so very often entirely untrue and restrict us in all kinds of ways you might not have realized, see the trans tuesday on THE FALSE DICHOTOMY.
Once I realized the tattoo was somehow, in some murky way I couldn’t identify, tied in with my transition, the ol’ Introspection Drive kicked into high warp and off I went, examining every facet of my life and choices as related to wanting some ink on my skin forever.
I’ve always thought they were cool, but why did I never want one? Why did that suddenly change? Once I hit upon the idea and design for it, why did I throw my whole ass at it and not even consider other ideas/designs? Why was THIS the one?
It’s… heavy stuff, even when it’s not life or death. But I want to figure these things out, I want to KNOW myself, know who I am, and WHY I am who I am. Because the truth of that was kept from me for my whole life by people with a vested interest in maintaining the cis status quo.
For seemingly innocuous ways that impacted my life, see the trans tuesday on SEARCHING FOR MEANING (when you’re trans and don’t know it).
And for incredibly heavy, life-altering ways it impacted my life, see the two part trans tuesday on TRANS GRIEF.
So what I realized is that the reason I never thought tattoos were for ME, never thought there was ANYTHING I’d want on my body for the rest of my life… is because:
my body
never
felt
like
mine.
I don’t know how to explain this to cis folks, who’ve always felt like your body was yours. And I’m not saying you’ve always been happy with your body or anything. Hell, our society doesn’t ever want that for anyone, does it?
But you’ve never felt like your entire body was the wrong gender and thus not yours (if you have, uhhhhh that’s what we call gender dysphoria and I have some big news for you).
Now I’m sure for some trans folks out there, they got tattoos before they transitioned (or even knew they weren’t cis) as a way of exercising bodily autonomy in what little ways they could. That’s completely valid, and honestly I wish I’d felt that way too.
But for me, my body never felt like mine, so I felt like… I don’t know. I wasn’t allowed to? Like I didn’t have the right to? And like it would only make me miserable somehow (because it would be a change I wanted, but not ALL the changes I wanted to my seemingly cis man body).
I honestly think having the tattoo before I knew I was trans, or once I knew but still had to wait years to start my transition, it would be a reminder of all that I DIDN’T have. That would add crushing sadness on top of the sadness and despair gender dysphoria already brought.
Again, see the trans tuesday on GENDER DYSPHORIA for more on that horrible monster.
What I do know is that once I was sure I was trans, but knew I had to wait to transition and I began slowly exploring my transness… it was then that I knew the tattoo was coming.
Because I had a photo of… well let’s call it a loose inspiration for my tattoo… as the lock screen on my phone for FOUR YEARS STRAIGHT. I went back and checked the date on it, because I knew that the day I downloaded it to my phone I made it my lock screen.
I wanted to see it there, every day, to remind me. To be sure it was something I still loved a year (then also, two, three, and four!) down the line, but also it was kind of inspirational, I guess. Because I knew something like that was going on MY body… someday.
I knew it wouldn’t be until after I’d transitioned, though. My transition may never really be over, it’s a process and not a goal with a fixed end, I think. Though some trans folks do get to a point where transition is “done” and they’re all set. I can only hope I find that day too.
But it was realizing that I knew, even back then, that I wouldn’t get the tattoo until AFTER I transitioned when it clicked into place for me. If it was going to be on MY body for the rest of my life, well:
it
needed
to
be
MY
body.
And note it wasn’t like I got this tattoo right after coming out to friends and family, or even after coming out to the world. In fact it was over two years after the day I knew I’d transition for sure, and nearly two years after I came out publicly.
But it took me until then to finally put things into motion. Because only then was I starting to REALLY feel like I was… me. I mean it’s still growing more and more every day, which is great. But around two and a half years in, I passed a point where it felt like I turned a corner.
And amazingly you can see this in three trans tuesdays that were released basically back to back. First, in CONFIDENCE 2: INTO THE UNKNOWN aka WHAT IS HAPPENING aka A WHOLE NEW WORLD when gatherings of strangers turned from terrifying to electrifying.
And then in FREEING UP MY BRAIN aka LUNCH WITH TILLY, where lessened or absent dysphoria opened me up to an entire world of experiences that I’d missed out on for my entire life.
And then in PHOTOS 2 aka THE SELFIE APOCALYPSE, when photos of myself just… STOPPED giving me dysphoria, which I never ever ever thought could happen. All three of these things occurred in succession as I approached two years of social/medical transition.
So looking back now, it’s no surprise at all that this is also when I put things into motion to get my tattoo. I was finally ready for the “final” (ha) piece of completing the ME I want to be, and so off I went to do just that.
Another interesting thing happened in searching for the right artist, in that one I was talking to early on kind of insulted the mock-up of my design I had, and basically refused to do it. She wanted me to just TELL her what I wanted and let her create it from scratch.
Now look, I know tattoo artists are ARTISTS, but that seemed… extreme? That may work fine for some folks, but not for me. Not for THIS. Because it’s going on MY body, so it has to be what *I* want.
And a good friend helped crystallize it for me: I’d spent MY ENTIRE LIFE being told what I could and could not do with my body. “You are a man, and you must be tall and wide and show no emotions but anger and lust. You are NOT a woman, and cannot be one!” Well.
Fuck that noise.
We can be, and actually ARE, who we know we are on the inside. And this is why it’s really a BODILY AUTONOMY issue, because here was this tattoo artist again telling me I couldn’t do WHAT I WANTED WITH MY OWN BODY.
So I found another artist who was willing to work with me, who naturally had his own ideas and tweaks, but made sure every step of the way we were staying true to the vision of what I wanted. Anything that didn’t work for me went right out, without protest.
And through about seven hours of pain (it hurt way more than everyone told me it would, sorry to say, ESPECIALLY on the inside/outside of the elbow where it was all I could do to not run away screaming), and weeks of healing, it was done. It’s there. It’s part of me. It’s ME.
To folks who kept me distracted from the pain by peppering me with questions during both tattooing sessions, thank you. If you missed those, you may find them entertaining. Check the replies and quote tweets to the replies here.
And here’s more from session two.
Every time I see my arm I smile. It makes me SO HAPPY. It has NINE different, distinct meanings for me, and no I will not explain any of them to you.
Look, I bleed all over the page for you in these essays, I pour out my heart and my soul, I try to be as open about everything as I can possibly be. But this? This is just for me, which is why I will not explain it. But go ahead and guess if you want, that could prove highly entertaining. 😌
And if you’re not yet aware that all the legislative attacks on trans people AND the legislative attacks on abortion/birth control/the right to choose are THE SAME ISSUE, now you know. It ALL comes back to BODILY AUTONOMY and the cishet white men who want it only for themselves.
If you want more on how trans people are often ignored in the fight for bodily autonomy, please see the trans tuesday on TRANS RAGE aka STOP FORGETTING ABOUT US.
You get one life in this world. One body. Make it your own, make it your home, make it YOU in whatever way that means. If I can do it, so can you. It’s true!
I believe in you.
Nine meanings. Seven hours. One body. One life.
Make it yours.
Tilly Bridges, end transmission.
tillystranstuesdays.com
My right arm showing a tattoo: an old banner with the words LADY VICTORY on it, surrounded by a skull with a pink bow, five pink stars, and many sharp, curving lines. Full arm view.
My right arm showing a tattoo: an old banner with the words LADY VICTORY on it, surrounded by a skull with a pink bow, five pink stars, and many sharp, curving lines. Bicep view.
My right arm showing a tattoo: an old banner with the words LADY VICTORY on it, surrounded by a skull with a pink bow, five pink stars, and many sharp, curving lines. Forearm view.