I have tattoos.
I am well aware that tattoos are frowned upon in Japan.
That is exactly why I held back until I reached this age.
I wanted to be sure I understood the weight and meaning of getting a tattoo.
I didn't want people to call it a 'youthful mistake,' and I didn't want to regret it as one.
And now, I don't have a single millimeter of regret.
I first longed for a tattoo when I was in elementary school.
The trigger was something very common: a character in a manga I liked had a tattoo.
At that young age, I didn't have thoughts about identity or self-expression. I just thought it was beautiful. That was all.
I should mention that I am a geek to my core. I am often drawn to characters in the 'villain' position. Furthermore—and this is useless information—my favorite characters have a high probability of dying. For whatever reason, or perhaps because I am easily drawn to such symbolic characters, those types often have tattoos. This is likely one reason why I don't feel any aversion to tattoos or traditional Japanese irezumi.
Of course, even as a child under ten, I understood the social standing and historical background of tattoos in Japan. Back then, the prejudice was even stronger; it was a much more niche era. Despite understanding that, I couldn't see it as a bad thing; I just thought it was beautiful. I could only see it as a form of art drawn on the skin.
That remains true today. Whenever I have free time, I browse photos of tattoo enthusiasts from around the world on social media as if I were visiting a museum. Just as one might love Monet, I loved specific tattoo artists. To me, tattoos were works of art—nothing more, nothing less—and they remained an object of my admiration. I thought about how wonderful every day would be if I could one day carry the work of a tattoo artist I respect on my own skin.
While thinking such things, my job is that of an actor. Not just as a voice actor, but as a stage actor, I have exposed my body on the boards. That is why I held back, thinking it would get in the way of becoming a character.
When I passed twenty, I knew that to survive in this world, one needs to be somewhat shrewd. I wasn't shallow in my thinking; I understood that at my young age, while I was still being promoted, a tattoo would likely hinder my path in terms of image. And above all, I always held the belief that 'one should not impulsively get a tattoo while their future is still uncertain.'
If there are young people out there wondering whether to get a tattoo, I would give them those exact words. The possibilities when you are young are infinite. Your values change easily, and your tastes are not permanent. Even if you are in an environment where tattoos are fine now, you don't know if you'll be in that same environment a year later. I feel this is especially true in work. When you can no longer continue that job for some reason. When you get bored of it. When you no longer feel potential in it. You will undoubtedly regret it when you are forced to work in an environment that does not accept tattoos.
If you aren't picky about your job, there are plenty of places to work. However, in an age where you are young and have various possibilities, is there a need to intentionally narrow those openings? It feels like a great waste for a young person, who could have soared in any direction if not for a tattoo, to limit their path because of a single piece of ink. That is why I want young people to think very, very carefully about tattoos. I want them to have a deep dialogue with their own desires and possibilities.
(If you still feel you must... then I only hope you carry your life with the resolve and awareness of what it means to have a tattoo in this country.)
Above all, from my own experience, there was a tattoo design I longed for in high school that I am now genuinely relieved I didn't get. You should consider designs while accounting for changes in taste and passing trends.
*Reading this far, I might sound like a self-righteous anti-tattoo person, but I haven't forgotten that I'm in a 'look who's talking' situation.
As for the circumstances that finally led me to get the tattoo I had long admired, one major factor was my experience with depression, which has continued to plague me in recent years. When death began to linger nearby and my sense of the meaning of life became blurred, I found myself wanting more and more to simply not have regrets. I can almost hear voices saying, 'Think about the impact on the roles you play, you idiot,' but it was precisely because I thought about them that I was able to endure for so many years.
In fact, every time I mentioned wanting a tattoo, I received messages saying, 'I will hate you if you get a tattoo' or 'I hate tattoos, so if you get one, please step down from your roles.' I understand the desire to say that. I knew there was prejudice, but I was honestly surprised it went that far. Unfortunately, I cannot understand that aversion at all, so trying to understand an emotion I don't possess was a very difficult task. Even now, I can neither understand nor empathize with that aversion, but since I can understand the feelings of the person asserting it, I won't deny them. I only want to say one thing: 'Are you going to take responsibility for my life?'
I am only myself; I wasn't born as that character. I have many roles other than that one, and I live as myself. I simply couldn't bring myself to sacrifice my life's choices for the sake of a single role anymore. I used to think that was fine—that I could give up on tattoos. But now, I have changed. I've had many experiences. It's not something superficial like my love for the roles fading or my passion for acting disappearing. It's because that character is that character, and they aren't me. Because the character isn't the only thing I'm carrying.
I understand that the people who messaged me have a strong love for the characters, and I think that's wonderful. Just as one grooms themselves to suit the time, place, and occasion, I will hide my tattoos when necessary when I take the stage carrying a character. However, I felt that controlling an actor's private life for the sake of a single role was simply too heavy a burden. Piercings, dyed hair, fashion—in modern terms, cosmetic surgery feels similar—I believe that as long as you aren't causing trouble for others or breaking the law, it's generally not a problem. This is ultimately a matter of preference; to put it bluntly, it's just about whether you like it or not.
I understand the historical background of tattoos as a mark of criminals, but that doesn't mean it continues as a ritual in the same way today. In the end, I think most of the aversion isn't toward the tattoo itself, but toward the image of historical backgrounds, anti-social figures, or the fact that criminals often have tattoos. Some people might not understand 'scarring' the body given by one's parents, or simply might not think tattoos are beautiful. That, too, is just a matter of like or dislike. As long as tattoos aren't illegal, that's all there is to it.
And I suspect that people who show aversion to tattoos are probably also uncomfortable with things like scarification, and perhaps history textbooks really resonate with them. I imagine they might feel pain every day from tragic news, or might faint if they went to a place like a fetish bar; I think their hearts must be very glossy and soft. That isn't a bad thing; it's likely the majority reaction. I think people like us, whose sense of taste is slightly skewed, should probably live as inconspicuously and decently as possible.
I did, of course, consider the impact on my work. Both for my career as a voice actor and for the 'what if' possibility of quitting. In the case of voice acting, my work might decrease due to the image of having a tattoo. Even if I were blessed with an opportunity to appear in person on terrestrial TV, I might lose that chance because of the tattoo. However, I thought that since it can be hidden with clothes or body foundation, and since voice acting is inherently a job where you don't appear on screen, I could avoid some risk. Still, my work has already decreased due to my hiatus. The possibility of it decreasing further cannot be denied.
However, I thought that if there is no precedent, I would try it myself. It's a gamble, but my life was a gamble from the start anyway. Especially now, when I've been on hiatus due to illness and it's unclear if I'm even active. If anything, I thought now was the chance.
Next, the option of not being able to return from depression, retiring as a voice actor, and getting a 'normal' job. To be honest, I thought about this right after I went on hiatus, but I couldn't envision myself, an overwhelming social misfit, working in general society at all. Regardless of tattoos, I probably can't do the jobs that normal people can do, like office work or part-time jobs in restaurants. For reasons I don't understand, the act of going to the same workplace every day and repeating the same assigned tasks makes me feel like I'm going insane. I actually felt like I was losing my mind during a one-day labor job at a factory, and I have never again done that type of routine work. If there isn't some kind of change every day, I can't breathe. Acting and live streaming are the only entertainment jobs a social misfit like me could manage to do decently and enjoyably, and being sick made me realize that again. I can't do normal work.
(As a side note, if I ever become unable to work in voice acting or entertainment, I am interested in 'special cleaning' [trauma cleaning] and would like to try it if possible.)
So, it's not that I'm being stubborn, but the possibility of turning back or changing my path doesn't exist for me now. This world is the only place where I belong.
I've digressed, but through all of this and my experience with depression, my desire to not regret my way of life became very strong. To want to try something, to find something beautiful, to want to see something, to want something—for someone like me who once had their heart die and knew a colorless, tasteless world, every act where 'emotions move' is precious, and I wanted to fulfill as much as possible while I'm alive. A tattoo was just one of those things, and I'm sure I'll continue to do various things in the future. I intend to live as if I'm in a hurry, telling myself that the time I have left is short.
I had decided on the tattoo artist a long time ago. I fell in love with their work years ago. While I was certain about the artist, I struggled with the specific motif and location. It's a lifelong thing, after all, and shouldn't be decided lightly. I absolutely didn't want to regret it. Feeling hesitant, I decided that my first tattoo should be something that would never change: my date of birth. It's not about getting bored or liking/disliking it; it's something that stays with you from birth until death. I thought this would let me test my compatibility with tattoos.
Since I really wanted the artist I'd loved at first sight to tattoo the motif I'd set my heart on, I had my first tattoo—the date of birth—done by an artist introduced by a trusted friend. People often ask, but the pain of the tattoo didn't exceed my expectations. It was like tracing the same spot with a ballpoint pen; it was about that level. It was over so quickly it was almost painless. The tattoo I had longed for for years was now on my skin, but my honest feeling was that, for better or worse, nothing changed—it was quite anticlimactic. To put it bluntly, it was just a trial; getting a tattoo didn't change my life in any grand way. It just felt naturally integrated into me. As if it had always been there, I myself didn't change at all, which was surprising.
So, if there are people who get tattoos expecting some dramatic transformation, I want to share my impression that the world didn't change as much as I thought it would. However, afterward, every time I soaked in the bathtub and saw the letters swaying in the water, there I was, feeling a little happy and tracing the tattoo with my finger.
After the first tattoo of my birth date, and living with a tattoo that felt more natural than expected, I finally made the request to the artist I had set my heart on. When I sent the booking DM and while I waited for the reply, I felt my heart beating faster. I was incredibly happy to find myself feeling excited. I was happy that there was still a version of me that looked forward to the world ahead.
The general motif had remained unchanged for years: the Luna Moth (Actias artemis). The moth of good luck. It is a truly beautiful moth. If I were to talk about why it's a moth, it would be a long story, so I'll save that for another time. (I have such complicated feelings about moths that I get a bit annoyed if someone calls it a butterfly, so I will state loudly here that it is not a butterfly.)
I looked forward to the day of the procedure so much. It was like waiting for a birthday; even though I've never looked forward to my own birthday, my heart danced like a child waiting for a present. I spent my nights gazing at the rough sketch and counting down the days. I thought, 'This must be what love feels like.'
The artist told me it was a painful area, but surprisingly, I didn't feel a shred of pain. I lay on the procedure table thinking of spicy ramen, glad that I liked spicy food. (In fact, every time the needle went in, for some reason my unrelated sole of my foot felt itchy, and it was harder to endure the itchiness; I almost laughed.)
The moment I saw the finished work, I got goosebumps from joy. I was confused by how different my reaction was from the first tattoo, but I quickly understood that a string of numbers like a curse that I didn't choose couldn't be on the same level as a motif I had cherished and put my feelings into for years. I had never felt my own body to be so precious. The drawn lines looked so radiant I wondered if this is how it feels when a child is born. I nurtured it carefully so the colors wouldn't fade and the lines wouldn't blur. Every time I look at it, my mood lifts, and I feel truly happy that such wonderful art is engraved on my skin. I thought it was like magic to be able to love myself.
It might have been a feeling similar to when I first had my nails done. To think that such a beautiful thing resides in my own body! I feel that way every single day. (It made me envious, wondering if beautiful people feel this all the time.)
I can't forget the face of the tattoo artist when they said, 'I put my heart into this, so I'm glad you're happy.' I believe tattooists who can draw such delicate and beautiful pictures on human skin are undoubtedly artists. It's not something just anyone can imitate.
And so, I have fulfilled one of the things I wanted to do, and I am steadily preparing for death so that I can end this life—whenever it may end—without regret. There are many other things I want to do. I want to go see the aurora, and I want to go to the desert. I want to play poker overseas, and of course, if possible, I want to do a lot more acting. I don't know how many I can fulfill, but I intend to try as many things as I can. (Within the limits of the law, of course.)
Regarding the tattoo, I expect negative opinions as a matter of course. That is why I endured for years and made this decision after considering various possibilities. I don't have a single millimeter of intention to say useless things like 'get rid of prejudice' or 'Japan is behind the times.' Prejudice is natural, and as I've said many times, I got it while understanding the location of Japan, its historical background, and the current standing of tattoos and irezumi. That's why I intend to live as decently and seriously as possible without causing trouble for others. I don't think there are many, but if by any chance there is someone in the same industry interested in tattoos, please use me as a guinea pig for your future moves (lol).
Finally, people say those who get tattoos are stupid or have no brains, and well, I think it can't be helped if they say that. You're making a choice to kill various possibilities for yourself while understanding that your tastes are biased and hated by the general majority. Even I wish I had more 'normal' sensibilities. But it can't be helped, right? I was born with the sensibility to find this beautiful.
It might be foolish, but I'm living positively, thinking, 'My IQ is high, so I'm not stupid!' ✌️ Even if I'm called stupid, I'll live thinking my intelligence quotient is higher than the majority of the world saying it. I'll probably be told again that that way of thinking is stupid and lacks class. Let's just keep insulting each other as fools. I believe there should be as many ways of living as there are humans. Until the day I enter my coffin, I'm just doing character creation in the MMORPG called Life! Life seems more fun on hard mode!
