“Thank You for Trusting Me”

I had this unlikely comment come my way the other day. They’re powerful words that I wish I used more often.

Trust comes in lots of iterations. A small sampling of the things I trust include that my car will start, that people will mostly not cross the yellow lines, and that my parents love me no matter what.  

The person who thanked me for my trust the other day was a rather giant man with illustrated skin including but not limited to face tattoos wearing a sick Carhartt apron. I’m not sure why he felt the need to thank me. Maybe it was because I rolled in to the tattoo shop on whim dressed as what a co-worker calls my “senator’s wife” aesthetic.

“What are you thinking about getting?”
“Just a word on my wrist. Is that something you’d be able to do? Or would it kill your tattooist soul?”

Sure it was an awkward thing to ask, but my entire life is awkward. I needed to know if it’s something he’d hate to do.

“Naw. The tattoos are for the person getting them. If it has meaning for you, that’s all that matters.” Fair enough. Also, maybe kinda like our old attorney that simply did not rile. So much to be learned from his mantra, “It all pays the same.”

I told him I wanted the word “Telos” which I understand to be Greek for “purpose.” I don’t speak Greek, sooooooo….I hope it means what I think it means.

The plan was set in motion.

I’m sure tattoo people spend a lot of time talking to people who are thinking about getting tattoos, but who bail for one reason or another. Maybe that’s why he hadn’t committed my tattoo to his memory. When we getting ready, he asked “It was ‘fearless,’ right?”

I belly laughed. “Yah. I am that basic, but no ‘purpose’.”

He didn’t laugh. I went back to imaginarily sipping a pumpkin spice latte, scrolling Pinterest, telling myself I’m different than the other basic chicks.

We stole the font straight off the internet. I should probably have a small trademark symbol tattooed next to it so as to avoid copyright infringements.

He told me that tattooing on the wrist can get “kind of spicy.” Maybe he has a light touch or maybe it was a generalized numbness, but it really didn’t hurt at all.

It was quick enough that I made it back in time for the office potluck where as it turns out, I was the only one with a saran wrapped wrist.

Most often when I get a tattoo, I really like the art, but I also go through this fabricated emotional drama of “this is probably one tattoo too many.” That’s not happening with this one. I really like it. I also really like that I now have a tattoo that’s in the open. All the rest of my ink is wardrobe dependent.

I messaged @tattoobiggin to express my appreciation. I told him that I’ve been trying to get my wrist in people’s line of sight so they’ll see it. (Attention seek much?)

And that’s when he said the “Thank you for trusting me.”

I’ve had fair amount of tattoos over my time from a variety of artists. Of course I trusted them all and have great respect for their work, but this is the first time I’ve been thanked for trusting the inker.

We put our trust in people and things every day. In ways both big and small and out of intention or by default. I think about the families we work with. They’ve had lost of reasons to distrust systems and then they’re thrust into situations in which they’re forced to trust us. I’ve never thanked one of them for trusting our work. I also think about our peers who we all have to depend on whom I’ve never thanked for their trust.

In this season of being thankful, I have gratitude for the random comment of the illustrated man to remind me that trust is a gift to be cherished. If there’s been something you’ve trusted me with, thank you.