I believe the term is...

...pussy whipped. After nearly 18 years with my partner, I'm finally admitting it.

If it weren't for her, I'd have at least one tattoo by now. I love tattoos. I always have seen them as art and making a statement about yourself.

Last year when I turned 40, I felt like I had reached a tangible milestone. At that time, I knew I was giving up my lifelong dream, and 6 year attempt, to have a child. It was with a hell of a lot of pain and heartache, but I knew it was time to let that dream go. Hard as it was, I knew it was the right thing and I was ultimately ok with it. Yeah, still hurts sometimes, probably always will, but I can accept that it was the best decision for everyone involved, including the potential child.

I had also finally come to accept where Judaism fits into my life. It fits me more culturally than religiously. The last time I went to Temple, I came to realize I didn't completely believe the words I was speaking and I have too much respect for the religion and myself to be a hypocrite. I also had to shed the intense cultural drive to have a child and continue the religion, especially knowing my sister, Cara, is raising her 3 kids Baptist (or within the Christian diaspora). She's never denied her Jewish heritage and from what I can gather, has fairly recently begun teaching the kids much more about it. I was truly afraid that the Jewish side (and Jewishness) of the family would be forever lost. That's something that is culturally taught, that without children and teaching the next generation, the religion and the culture will be lost. Not having kids felt like I'd failed religiously and culturally. Kicked my ass.

As a representation of reaching 40 and these HUGE steps in my life, I wanted to finally get a tattoo. I had also reconciled the religious taboo of getting a tattoo. I really felt it was time.

DEBBIE FREAKED OUT

We had major and numerous discussions and arguments over a few weeks and it was finally left where she wanted me to wait 6 months and rethink it. I had waited 25-odd years, but what the fuck. After 25 years, what's another 6 months? 6 months went by, no surprise, still wanted it. Had changed a couple of times what exactly I wanted, but it was all following the same theme. Big surprise, Debbie put her foot down again, threatening to leave if I did it. Nothing like emotional blackmail.

It's now a year later and I still don't have a fucking tattoo. I thought I had finally worked up the nerve to just go ahead, regardless of what she said. After months of looking online, researching places, the art and the chemistry behind tattooing, on Wednesday night, I drove all the way to Kingston to drop off a picture and make an appointment. When I got there, wow, the vibe was really great. I knew it was the right place for me, then when I found out I could get it done by a woman, it was nearly perfect. The first appointment she had was tomorrow, Sunday, and I quickly jumped on it.

Then came telling Debbie. I knew it would be difficult but much better to tell her and deal with 2 days of shit than spring it on her Sunday night. Definitly not a good move. It went as expected...

I cancelled the appointment tomorrow. Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck.

Pussy whipped.

Yup, definitely.

Not crazy about the connotation of the term, but it's the best way to describe how I feel. I'm also not crazy about the fact I know I'm going to get dozens if not hundreds of hits from p*rn (let's not make it any worse).