All my tattoos except my first were not planned. I would just go

The words of Hailey Baldwin—“All my tattoos except my first were not planned. I would just go into the shop late at night with friends and ask for something on the spot. My first is my parents' wedding date. I thought it would soften the blow of getting a tattoo.”—speak to the tension between spontaneity and memory, between impulse and reverence. For while her later marks were born of whim, her first was a deliberate gesture toward legacy, a way to anchor her skin in the permanence of love. The wedding date of her parents became not just ink, but symbol—a tribute strong enough to shield her from judgment and lend honor to her choice.

The act of marking the body with symbols is ancient, as old as mankind itself. Warriors bore tattoos to recall victories, tribes carved them into flesh as signs of belonging, and lovers inscribed them as eternal vows. Baldwin’s choice to inscribe her parents’ marriage upon her skin stands in this lineage. It was a way of saying: “My first act of permanence shall be tied not to rebellion, but to love’s enduring covenant.”

The mention of softening the blow reveals a deeper truth about society’s gaze. For the tattoo has long carried a reputation as defiance, a mark of those who stray from tradition. By choosing her parents’ wedding date, Baldwin turned potential rebellion into devotion, cloaking her act in filial honor. It is a reminder that even when we step into the new, we may still carry the old with us, transforming doubt into acceptance.

History recalls the story of Roman soldiers, who often tattooed their allegiance to their legions upon their bodies. What seemed like harsh scarification became instead a symbol of loyalty and honor. In the same way, Baldwin’s first tattoo—though it might have been seen as transgression—became instead a mark of fidelity to family and heritage.

Therefore, O listener, learn this: even in moments of spontaneity and wildness, the heart yearns for symbols of permanence. The tattoo, though often born of impulse, can carry the deepest truths when tied to love and memory. For ink fades not, and the wedding date inscribed upon the skin becomes more than decoration—it becomes a living altar to the bond that first gave us life. Thus, what begins as fear of judgment may be transformed into honor, if the mark springs from love.