My First Tattoo
When you’re a performer, you spend a lot of your time worrying about the way that you look. It literally dictates how you make money, too fat, too short, too much hair, or not enough are all factors that stand between you and a job, especially when you don’t have the beauty boost of nepotism on your side. I’ve given up a little on thinness, even though it makes a noticeable difference in the type and frequency of work I’m called in for. However, there are still attributes that I worry about.
My hair is dark, and my skin is fair, so the light picks up on the patterns of my hair, which makes any little spot between curls look like a HUGE bald spot on camera. So naturally, I have a root cover-up powder to fill in my hairline. I use eyedrops and have a rotation of under-eye masks, so I can still play eight to six years younger than my age. I freak out whenever I get a small cut or scratch on my hands and swear to start wearing gloves everywhere. My body is the currency that I move throughout this world with, and I’ve already gotten called in for a young mom, so my clock is ticking. Ever since I was thirteen, I have been fiercely protective of my look. I swore that I would never get a tattoo.
And then I got a tattoo three weeks ago…
I haven’t felt this level of freedom since the time that I shaved my head. At the time, I was starting yoga teacher training, which would exclude me from most of the plays in the college season, so I felt free to do it. Since graduating, I’ve let smart decisions be my compass, and since my hair had already grown back in and new headshots run you about $1,000, shaving my head has been out of the question. So I’ve kept my hair with a promise to shave it again when I’m famous. Still, a part of me feels like a fraud in my own body, keeping colorful shirts and jean jackets in my closet for auditions, thinking of my Oscar as my “why” when I’m sweating through a workout class I don’t want to be in, and racing to trim my hair when I’m not up for a job.
I don’t know if it was an act of rebellion for not booking anything major this year that made me commit, or if it was the knowledge that my sister would kill me if I chickened out again. But I finally did it! I was kind of shocked by myself; the autonomy was sobering. Acting means everything to me, and sometimes it is too precious for too long, and it gets in my way. If I’m not even myself…how can I be someone else onstage, how can I put on a character and live in another life? I feel myself evolving again, and it’s so wonderful because I know my artistry will thank me for it! So my tattoo feels less like a broken promise and more like a repromise.
So don’t waste your time with acting classes, get a tattoo!
