Hi, my name’s Emily.
I’ve got a story that’s extremely embarrassing…but you might think it’s funny – or at least,
you can learn from my mistakes!
Ever since I was little, I couldn’t wait to get tattoos.
I’ve always been artistic, loved drawing and painting…so of course it just made sense
to get some permanent ink.
By the time I got to high school I was obsessed with tattoo designs.
I had a Pinterest board full of ideas to inspire my future self.
I mostly liked bright colors and flowery designs, and especially loved watercolor-style tats.
They’re really expensive though, and it’s hard to get a watercolor tattoo that’ll
still look good a few years down the road.
But I just loved how delicate and beautiful they looked, like they had actually been painted
on skin.
I knew I had to wait until I was eighteen, which was fine.
That gave me time to save up some money, and figure out exactly which design I would get,
and where I would get it.
Well, at least that was the plan…until my church trip to Cambodia.
I’m not especially religious, but my family has always belonged to the same church.
I’ve known those kids in the church group forever.
And when our group leader organized a mission trip to Cambodia, we all jumped at the chance
to take a trip together.
We raised money to cover the costs - bake sales, car washes, you name it!
We were dedicated.
I know, I know.
We weren’t all excited about making a difference in people’s lives.
But hey, who turns down the chance for a vacation with friends?
And anyway, we would be helping people while we were there…we’d just be having a good
time, too!
Win-win!
So we got all the money together, booked the flights, and found places to stay near the
schools and orphanages we were going to help.
We even raised extra money to cover some side trips and souvenirs.
It was an 8-day trip, so we were going to have a bunch of extra time to explore.
My Mom was kinda apprehensive about me going so far away, but the church did these trips
every year, and we’d known George, the group leader, since I was a baby.
The day of the trip finally came.
I was so excited.
It wasn’t my first time on a plane, but it was definitely my first time being so far
away from home, especially without my parents.
But I wasn’t homesick – I was EXCITED.
And I just got even more excited when we were all shuttled off the plane into the tropical
air.
It smelled like rain and warm dirt – so exotic.
Volunteering at the orphanages was way more fun than I expected.
There were a ton of kids and only a few caregivers, so the little ones were super excited to play
and hang out, even though we didn’t even speak the same language.
We’d brought a ton of toys for the kids, like bubbles and bouncy balls, which they
were so unbelievably excited about.
It was super cute!
So yeah, I had fun at the volunteering gigs…but the evenings were the most fun of all, because
George would just hang out with the other adults and let us do whatever we wanted.
Was that dangerous and irresponsible?
Sure, but we were all 17 and 18.
George trusted us, and he thought we were responsible kids.
I wish I could say he was right, but again…we were 17 and 18 year old kids, let loose in
a foreign city all on our own, no rules, no one to tell us what to do!
There were no real drinking laws, so we would buy fancy cocktails for cheap, drinking them
while looking out at the busy streets, feeling very grown up.
To our credit, we only got tipsy, not wasted – we just liked the feeling of being able
to order our own drinks without being questioned.
Even now, I can remember sipping a too-strong, slightly warm fruity cocktail, and feeling
COMPLETELY happy.
It was silly – but I don’t regret it.
It was after one of these carefree, tipsy nights that we’re walking back to our hotel,
and my friend Lisa points to a dingy little place next to yet another tourist bar.
“Look!” she said, “There’s a tattoo parlor!” and so of course, we all went over.
Nothing said you had to be 18 to get one.
And they’d be way cheaper here than at home.
So we went in!
I know what you’re thinking: “Emily, that is such a stupid idea.
Please tell me you didn’t get a cheap tattoo from a random artist in Cambodia!”
I can see it now, and I agree with you: yes, what a stupid idea.
But it seemed like a good idea at the time – you know how that goes – cocktails and
a foreign country – can’t beat it!
Peer pressure definitely didn’t help, either.
Everyone knew I loved tattoos, and they were all egging me on.
So we went in…but I didn’t have my Pinterest ideas!
What would I get?
Just something to remember this amazing experience by?
I tried to explain to the tattoo artist what I wanted - a floral, jungle-inspired design,
with some Vietnamese characters in the middle to signify friendship and adventure.
I decided the best place would be over my ribcage, where I could easily hide it.
The artist traced up the design – which I LOVED – and we were ready to begin!
I had heard a lot of people talk about rib tattoos being painful, and oh my god, it was
the worst pain I’ve ever felt.
I was sweating, shaking and crying – but my friends were there to distract me, and
even bought me another drink.
Once it was done, I inspected the work in the mirror – it was bruised and swollen,
but there was an amazing, colourful design of vines and flowers, with some Vietnamese
writing in the middle that the artist had decided on.
I loved it.
I got it wiped down and covered with cling-film, then went on my way.
I bet you’re expecting that it got infected.
Well, in hindsight, I should have expected that too!
I was so, so lucky that the tattoo healed really nicely, no scarring, and I was able
to enjoy the rest of the trip with only a bit of discomfort.
The real difficulty came when I got home.
First of all, my Mom hated it.
I tried to hide it, but there’s only so much you can do to hide a massive, bright
rib tattoo.
She gave me this huge lecture about not being able to trust me anymore, and how irresponsible
it was to get a tattoo at a random place in a foreign country.
I yelled at her for not supporting me, but honestly, she was right, and I am an idiot.
You may also be wondering why I have described this tattoo as the worst tattoo ever, when
I actually really liked the design.
My change of heart happened one day at the beach with kids from my class.
One of the girls was Cambodian, Mony.
I didn’t know her well, so she had never seen my tattoo before, but when I changed
into my bikini, she gave me a funny look.
“I don’t know if you already know this, but the translation of your tattoo is…probably
not what you wanted.”
she said slowly.
“What do you mean!?”
I replied, instantly getting defensive.
It turned out that my request for a quote about friendship and adventure had been mis-translated.
Badly.
What my tattoo actually said, as best as Mony could translate it, was: “dangerous relationships
with friends.”
What….the….hell?!
The massive, black symbols permanently inked on my body didn’t even make sense!
No matter how you tried to interpret them, it was a horrible message – and it was all
my fault!
Why hadn’t I thought to double check?
How could he misunderstand my instructions so badly?
Is this what you get when you’re getting tattooed by an artist who doesn’t speak
your language?
Out of a sense of pride, I kept quiet about my tattoo, and didn’t tell anyone else about
the “dangerous relationships with friends.”
When I turned 18 and was actually able to legally go into a tattoo parlor, I started
doing some research about cover-ups.
I got multiple professional opinions.
They all said the same thing: a good coverup would be impossible because of the thick lines
and bright colors.
My best option was to get the Cambodian quote removed by laser, and then I could have the
gap filled in with either a new quote or more floral designs to match the original.
I had heard about laser removal, and I wasn’t happy – but I didn’t really have another
choice, so I dipped into my tattoo funds and booked a consultation at a spa that did removals.
And yes – I checked their reviews first.
I explained the situation to the technician, who found the mistranslation kinda funny,
but also felt sorry for me because I had to spend so much money removing part of a tattoo
that had been super cheap to get.
She told me how lucky I was that I didn’t get an infection from the original tattoo.
Made me realize just how stupid I’d been, but I was relieved when she told me she’d
be able to get rid of the text so I could have a tattoo I was happy with.
That laser treatment took 6 long, long sessions.
The way it works is they inject an anaesthetic to numb the skin, then zap it with a laser
to target the black ink, then put ice on and bandage it up.
Doesn’t sound too bad, right?
But in the days afterward, the whole area becomes one huge blister that you aren’t
allowed to pop.
It was excruciatingly painful, and halfway through I was so sick of it that the technician
decided that by 6 sessions, it would be faded enough that a cover-up could be done.
So I waited for the blister to form, scab over and peel off (eww, I know) after that
6th session, while the skin underneath was healing, I started looking for someone to
do the cover-up.
I opted for the tropical design to be filled in more – no text this time, thank you very
much!
The last thing I wanted was a grammar mistake or spelling error to replace the mis-translation.
And now?
I’ve just had the first session for my coverup tattoo done, and it looks great so far.
The artist checks in with me every step of the way, and I am trying to be a lot more
responsible.
So, that’s my tattoo story – it’s not complete yet, but I hope the rest of the tale
won’t be quite so eventful.
I know my behavior in Cambodia was irresponsible, but I definitely learned my lesson.
Please, if you’re going to get anything permanent done to your body – do your research,
plan everything out, and don’t make any (drunk) spur of the moment decisions.
What about you guys?
Do you have any tattoo stories?
Or have you ever made any bad decisions while travelling?
Share your stories in the comments below – maybe it’ll make me feel a little bit better about
my own!
And don’t forget to like and subscribe if you liked my story.
It helps the channel a lot.
Thanks for watching
and see you guys next time!