A few weeks before my son left for college, he pulled me aside and said, “I’ve been thinking about getting a tattoo.”

I was shocked and surprised.

I used to believe that tattoos were bad. I used to believe our bodies were sacred and getting a tattoo was like putting graffiti on a beautiful building.

My beliefs have rapidly evolved over the years, but I had never considered how I felt about my son getting a tattoo. Was a ‘good’ parent supposed to discourage it?

Instead of responding, I decided to asked him more questions. I asked where he wanted to put the tattoo and if he knew what he wanted to get.

He pulled out a small piece of paper with a simple drawing of an astronaut floating in space. He told me he had been working on the drawing for a several weeks and was finally pleased with how it looked (he’s quite artistic). Then, he pointed to the inside of his bicep. He told me he had chosen to put it there, because it could easily be covered by a t-shirt. He thought by putting it there, it wouldn’t interfere with future jobs.

Once again, I was surprised and shocked. He had clearly put a lot of thought and planning into this decision.

Still unsure of the right response, I thanked him for showing me, and told him I had to leave to finish making dinner.

Once I had a moment alone, I called Lillie. She has been my good friend for over 10 years and happens to have a tattoo that she got when she was 18. I figured she could tell me what she wished her parents had said (if she had asked them before getting her tattoo).

Once I explained the situation, she said, “Melanie, do you have any idea how awesome it is, that he told you?! He’s 18. He doesn’t need your permission, he just wants your support. You should offer to go with him and hold his hand while he gets it!”

“But,” I stammered, “what if he regrets it? Won’t it be partially my fault, if I don’t discourage him?”

Lillie laughed and said, “No, not at all.”

Feeling much better about how to proceed, I asked my son if I could go with him to get his tattoo. This time, he was the one surprised. He checked out a few places before deciding where to have it done, and then made the appointment.

As we waited in the tattoo parlor, we looked at books filled with tattoos. We talked about how unique his astronaut drawing looked and he asked me if I had ever considered getting a tattoo. I admitted that I had thought about it, but couldn’t decided what I wanted.

Then I saw it. A beautiful cursive J… and I knew what I wanted to get. I asked for a piece of paper and practiced writing Joel, until I was satisfied.

When we left the parlor, we both had tattoos.