The ink has never allured me. No needles for me, thank you. It has taken me more than 20 years to become fully comfortable with vaccinations, let alone a tattoo gun.

Yet I am a member of the tattoo generation. Bobbi Rebell of Reuters reported in 2015 that 40 percent of Millennials have tattoos, though 70 percent of that group claims they get them in places where they can hide them from managers and employers.

I suppose, then, it is natural that I have an image of the tattoo I would get in another time, or another universe.

It would be extravagant: a cross of St. James spanned across my back with Celtic-style braiding. In each quadrant formed by the cross, I would have the artist place the animal symbol for each of the four evangelists – the writers of the four canonical Christian gospels. In clockwise order starting with the upper left quadrant, I would have the winged lion of St. Mark, followed by the eagle of St. John, the angel of St. Matthew and the winged ox of St. Luke.

Perhaps the complexity of this dream and the number of hours I would spend in the chair to get this inked image prevents it from actually happening. The expense also proves prohibitive to my spending sensitivities.

Tattoos, for many people, including some of my close friends, embody a poignant, often painful, memory or sense of loss. Many tattoos represent lost parents, children, friends or lovers. Some get the names or symbols of children tattooed on themselves as a matter of pride and joy. Others get tattoos to embrace a sense of liberation or rebellion.

The way one adorns the body represents a lived-in form of representation and individuality. Tattoos are no exception. They ideally demonstrate to the person and the world some sort of meaning, even if that meaning is a drunken mistake.

However, I am content to continue without. Even though many tattoos are hidden from the world, you always risk the situation at the beach or pool of another person asking, “That’s a cool tattoo. What does it mean?”

I prefer to keep the struggles and triumphs of my life private unless I decide to share. That sense of privacy extends to tattoos. Tattoos are memories etched on your body, and though they require interpretation, tattoos shred some of the veil between hidden histories and shared stories.

Moreover, I avoid tattoos for the same reason I avoid most t-shirts with messages: if I can maintain control of the narrative, I will. A tattoo, even if concealed beneath clothing, defies this ability to fully control the narrative. The same can be argued for wild hair colors, piercings or even poor wardrobe choices. Judgments are made about personal appearance, and there comes a point when these judgments matter.

To the credit of many who choose to be tattooed, the choice is deeply meaningful and personal. My decision not to have a tattoo is similarly purposeful.

I will, therefore, choose to remain without a tattoo. This is likely just as well; I do not know many inked economists anyway.

Tyler Laferriere is a graduate student pursuing his master’s in economics from Phoenix, Arizona. He can be contacted at [email protected].