Quote Originally Posted by Ginevive View Post
I love it. My husband is long-haired, tattooed. He has also given people the shirt off of his back (literally and figuratively.)

Years ago, we moved to a small New York farming down, because we were tired of getting our car stereos stolen in the city. People thought that we were bad news. I suppose that people would have thought the same, if some non-white people had moved into the all-white town.

Fast-forward a few years. We were best friends with the most prominent farming family in the area; to the point where we literally pet-sat for each other when the other was out of town. Our conservative neighbor (right-wing to the core; ex-military, God-fearing) became our best friend, as well. Why? Because we both looked past the stupid, myopic, hateful stereotypes which so many people wear over their eyes like rose-tinted glasses. Let's stay in our neighborhood, with people similar to us, and no one gets hurt.

I now live in the city. Most suburbanites will consider my neighborhood "the ghetto" and write us off with a dismissive wave of the hand when I say where I live. You know what? My husband lives a minute away from his own business; I live a minute away from my employer. They commute 45 minutes through congested streets, back and forth. I commuted for a few years, and will never sentence myself with that garbage again. And my neighbors are tight, and do not have congestive heart failure when you forget to pick up a leaf on your lawn. Touche.

I grew up in the city. All types of people crossed my paths. My dad's friends were all rocker types. Well.. when I was about ten, I was outside alone. A red Crown Victoria pulled up to me.. a superbly-dressed man with impeccably groomed hair, and cologne, asked me this.. "hey, pretty girl.. you should come and take a ride with me." I promptly had a heart-stopping moment of sheer terror, gasped, and hauled ass away into a neighbor's yard. (why lead him to my home by running to my own yard, was my logic.)

My lesson from this? As a twelve-year-old, I learned young.. be wary of everyone at first. That snazzy politician? He makes more than an average family makes in ten years, in one year. He will retire on a sailboat, while most people are lucky if their pension pans out. Go ahead.. judge people for their skin color, hair style, or tattoos.. you just keep at it, and I will keep at my philosophy; to each their own.
There is something that I want to add. I do not have tattoos to get attention. Actually, mine are covered most of the time. I have them because I love art, and they mean something to me that is indescribably vital to who I am. I respect others' religious and spiritual beliefs, and I try not to judge them based on those.. all I wish for, is the same courtesy extended to me.