"You're so pretty... but your tattoos ruin you."
The Unsolicited Opinions of (Some) Men on My Body
I don’t remember the first time a man told me that my tattoos made me ugly. I don’t remember the first comment, the first direct message, the first “such a pretty face, why’d you ruin it?” or “Why would you put a bumper sticker on a Porsche?” slipping into my mentions like a snake in the grass.
What I do remember is how it made me feel—like a slap, like a stranger reaching through the screen and pulling at my skin, trying to peel away something they didn’t approve of.
For as long as I can remember, tattoos have been a form of personal expression. Every piece of ink on my body represents something deeply personal—milestones, memories, moments of pain and triumph immortalized in ink. To me, they are art. To some people, however, they are an invitation to critique. And critique they do.
I have nearly a million followers across social media, and each month, I receive hundreds of thousands of comments and messages. The vast majority of them are kind, supportive, engaged—people who appreciate my work, my creativity, my presence. This is the majority of my community, and I genuinely appreciate their kindness and support more than they will ever know.
But in that sea of positivity, there are always a few, a small but insistent minority, who feel the need to remind me that, in their eyes, I have made a mistake. That I would be prettier if I had left my body untouched. That I have “ruined” myself. In my personal experience, I have never received comments like this from women… only men.
Let’s take a look just a SMALL portion of the shame I’ve received specifically over my tattoos… there’s plenty on my body, which I’ll cover in a separate post, but for now, this post is focused on the ink:
At first, it got under my skin. It gnawed at me in a way that only an unwelcome opinion about your body can. I would find myself rereading the comments, dissecting their words, feeling the frustration bubble up inside me.
It wasn’t just that they were criticizing my tattoos; it was the entitlement, the casual authority with which they spoke.
As if their personal aesthetic preference was the universal truth. As if my body should exist for their viewing pleasure, unaltered, pristine, pleasing to their particular tastes.
That isn’t to say that unaltered skin isn’t beautiful… it very much is! But beauty comes from the confidence and self-love a person has, regardless of their ink (or lack of ink). My partner has no tattoos… neither does my mother or most of my extended family. My brothers and I were the rebels… but we were never shunned for it.
It took time, but I learned to grow a thick skin. The reality is that when you exist publicly—especially as a woman—some people will always believe they have a right to comment on your body.
Social media gives them access, a direct line to say things they would never have the audacity to say to my face. But while my content is public, my consent to being body-shamed is not. Posting a photo or a video does not mean I am inviting unsolicited opinions on my appearance. And yet, some men continue to believe that they are owed a say in how I present myself.
What’s truly insidious about tattoo shaming is that it falls under the broader umbrella of body shaming—a phenomenon that we have likely all endured at one time or another, but women, in particular, are subjected to in a thousand different ways. Whether it’s weight, makeup, clothing choices, or, in this case, tattoos, there is always a subset of humans (often men) who feel compelled to remind us that we are not measuring up to their imagined ideal.
And unlike haircuts or fashion trends, tattoos are permanent. They are not something I can change to fit someone else’s standards. Nor would I want to.
Each tattoo I have represents a pivotal moment in my life. They are not just designs inked onto my skin; they are symbols of my journey. Some mark the loss of loved ones, a way of carrying them with me always.
Others represent my family, their names or symbols woven into my body like a living testament to the love I have for them.
Some are marks of my strength—pieces I got after overcoming personal struggles, reminders of the resilience I’ve cultivated over the years.
And then there are the ones that honor my love of mythology, of storytelling, of the empowerment that comes from carrying legends on my skin. After I received my doctorate and becoming a full time creative, I wanted a tattoo that was equally magnanimous and represented a collection of my passions and power.
My dragon, surrounded by hibiscus and peonies, represented these very things… a legend of strength and determination but also feminine power and connection to nature.
Yet, no one bothers to see past the simple fact that they are tattoos.
Never mind the countless hours spent under the needle, the sheer endurance required to sit through session after session, sometimes for eight or more hours at a time. Never mind the mental fortitude it takes to push past the pain, to find a place of calm and focus while the ink is being etched into my skin. Never mind the fact that, each time I walk away from a session, I do so with a piece of art that will go with me for the rest of my life, a shield of my own making. Each line, each color, each image is a story, a chapter in the book of my life—one that I wear with pride.
For a while, I tried different approaches to responding. Sometimes I ignored the comments entirely, not wanting to feed the trolls. Sometimes I pushed back, asking why they felt the need to tell me this, what they hoped to achieve.
Other times, I made jokes, turning their criticism into content, a way to highlight just how ridiculous their unsolicited opinions were.
But ultimately, I realized that no response would ever satisfy them, because their words weren’t about me at all. They were about control. About the belief that women’s bodies exist to be judged and approved—or disapproved—mostly by men.
I don’t get angry about these comments anymore. I don’t lose sleep over them.
But that doesn’t mean I’m okay with them, either.
It’s a terrible thing, this belief that women’s bodies are up for public debate, that a stranger’s preference should dictate my choices. My tattoos are mine. My body is mine. And no amount of unwelcome commentary will change that.
So, to the men who feel compelled to tell me that I would be more beautiful without my tattoos, I say this: your approval was never the goal. I did not get tattooed for you. I did not carve my memories into my skin for your aesthetic satisfaction. My body is not a canvas for your desires, it is a canvas for MINE. My beauty is not something you get to define.
I have changed my approach to dealing with tattoo shame. I no longer let it affect me, but I also no longer allow it to go unchecked. I call it what it is—body shaming. I remind others that a woman’s body does not exist for public critique. And most importantly, I continue to wear my tattoos proudly, unapologetically, because they are mine. And that is enough.
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ABOUT TIFFANY CHAN, Ed.D., CSE, MA:
Tiffany Chan, (stage names: Dr. K or Kipani Heart), seamlessly blends her creative passions with a deep commitment to holistic sexual education. Based in Los Angeles, Tiffany is a Board-Certified Sexologist and Intimacy Consultant specializing in kink education, D/s dynamics, and holistic living, as well as popular model and influencer. She holds a Doctorate in Education, a Master’s in English Literature, and advanced certifications in sexology, making her approach to intimacy and empowerment both uniquely informed and empathetic.
Chan’s academic background is complemented by her experience as a creative writer, digital content creator, and certified fitness trainer. She has published work in scholarly journals such as American Popular Culture and Men’s Health and is actively involved in research with The Alternative Sexual Health Research Alliance (TASHRA). As the host of the popular podcast The Submissive Next Door, Chan delves into diverse topics ranging from BDSM to consent and alternative lifestyles, sharing eye-opening insights with her guests.
Chan is also the founder and editor of Artistic Edge Magazine, where she merges her love for the arts with her dedication to sexual education. A staunch advocate for diversity, inclusion and informed consent, she is a member of the National Coalition for Sexual Freedom (NCSF) and the Society for the Scientific Study of Sexuality (SSSS). She is a recognized leader in the alternative lifestyle community as well, offering workshops and consultations that empower individuals to explore their identities in safe, consensual environments.
To learn more about Tiffany Chan, visit TiffanyChanOfficial.com | Beacons.ai/kipani.
Press and media contact: Brian S. Gross | BSG PR | 818.340.4422 | brian@bsgpr.com | @bsgpr
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Powerful message!
Your tattoos are part of your story, and from what I have seen of them they are all done by professional artist on a beautiful canvas. I feel they add to your beauty by being a display of your heart. You are a strong powerful woman and and those who cannot see that because you have tattoos need to just F' off.