24 Striking Tattoos That Beat the System

Nobody needs tattoo catalogs in tattoo salons anymore because anyone who wants to get a tattoo has a story that has left a mark on their hearts. In this new article, we have collected tattoos that tell a lot about their owners. And at the end of the article, there is a bonus showing that some people don’t really care what is on their bodies.

We at Bright Side are sure that tattoos are a kind of art and here are 24 examples of original and important pictures on the body that have an interesting story behind them.

An amazing 3D effect

This one is truly hypnotizing

2 hands in one

3rd degree burn scar covered by a phoenix

“The wife and I got tattoos of a diagram depicting the position of the planets as they were at the exact time we were married.”

“My girlfriend’s tattoo of her cat in a shark costume and her actual cat in a shark costume”

A simple explanation of entropy

“I proposed to my girlfriend with this tattoo, she said yes!”

When you treat any situation with humor:

“My mom’s tattoo of her mom’s birth and death date, and heartbeat into a signature. When she passes, I will get the same tattoo (relating to her of course) in her memory.”

“This is my dog and I.”

A tattoo artist from Brazil made a unique tattoo that literally opens when the arm opens.

“Tribute tattoo for my best friend who passed away”

“I found a way to incorporate a scar into something much more.”

“I got this tattoo after my heart transplant.”

Honeybees for a pair of married beekeepers

“My dad passed away 7 years ago, he got this tattoo when he turned 18, and when I turned 18, I got it too.”

“My favorite scene from Spirited Away

“About a month ago, I lost a friend in a climbing accident. This is my reminder of him as well as a reminder to myself to climb safe.”

“Got my first tattoo done yesterday.”

“After her son passed away, this awesome lady got the image and writing from a card he’d written for her tattooed on her forearm.”

“Moved from Sydney to Ireland when I was 10. I’m 20 now and here’s my first tattoo.”

“Shortly after my mother’s death in Nov 2013, I found a notebook where she had written a random note to my sisters and I that we had never received. This was part of it and I decided to get a tattoo of it.”

Bonus: Her tattoo says “fresh spring rolls” in Thai.

Which tattoo amazed you the most? Do you or any of your relatives have any important tattoos on your body? Tell us in the comment section below.

I Discovered My Husband Mocks Me in Front of His Friends & I Taught Him a Lesson He’ll Never Forget

I’m a full-time mom. About a year ago, I left my job to take care of our three-year-old daughter, who is autistic and requires a lot of support. Lately, I’ve noticed that my usually feminist husband has been criticizing me in a group chat.

Transitioning into the role of a stay-at-home mom (SAHM) wasn’t something I had envisioned for myself. I used to thrive in the fast-paced world of marketing, surrounded by campaigns and fueled by brainstorming sessions over coffee. But all that changed a little over a year ago when my husband, Jake, and I made a significant decision. Our daughter, Lily, who is three and autistic, needed more attention than what her daycare could provide. Her needs are complex, requiring constant care and support, and it became clear that one of us had to be with her full-time.

I won’t sugarcoat it — leaving my career behind was one of the toughest decisions I’ve ever made. I miss the freedom of earning my own income and the satisfaction of a job well done. But here I am now, spending my days planning meals, cooking, and baking. I’ve found joy in these tasks, and experimenting in the kitchen has become my new creative outlet.

Our backyard has turned into a small garden oasis under my care, and I take care of most of the household chores. Jake does his fair share too; he’s actively involved in chores and parenting whenever he’s at home. We’ve always considered ourselves equals, rejecting traditional gender roles, or so I thought until last week.

It was a regular Thursday, and I was tidying up Jake’s home office while he was at work. It’s filled with tech gadgets and piles of paperwork, typical for someone in software development. His computer screen caught my eye — it was still on, casting a soft glow in the dim room. He usually left it on by accident, but what I saw next wasn’t accidental at all.

His Twitter feed was open, and I froze when I saw the hashtag #tradwife attached to a tweet. Confusion washed over me as I read the post. It glorified the joys of having a traditional wife who embraces her domestic duties. Attached was a photo of me, taking a batch of cookies out of the oven, looking every bit like a 1950s housewife. My stomach churned as I scrolled through more posts. There I was again, tending to the garden and reading to Lily, our faces thankfully obscured.

This was Jake’s account, and he had been crafting a whole narrative about our life that was far from reality. He portrayed me as a woman who relished her role as a homemaker, willingly sacrificing her career for aprons and storybooks. The truth of our situation — that this arrangement was a necessity for our daughter’s well-being — was nowhere to be seen.

I felt betrayed. Here was the man I’d loved and trusted for over a decade, sharing our life with strangers under a false pretense that felt foreign to me. It wasn’t just the lies about our relationship dynamics that hurt — it was also the realization that he was using these glimpses of our life to bolster some online persona.

I shut the computer down, my hands trembling with a mix of anger and bewilderment. All day, I grappled with my emotions, trying to comprehend why Jake would do this. Was he dissatisfied with our situation? Did he resent my decision to stay home? Or was it something deeper, a shift in how he perceived me now that I wasn’t contributing financially?

The rest of the day passed in a blur. His posts kept replaying in my mind, and eventually, I couldn’t ignore them any longer. I decided to call him and address everything head-on.

“Jake, we need to talk,” I finally said, trying to keep my voice steady.

He answered, sounding concerned. “What’s wrong?”

I took a deep breath, the weight of my discovery weighing heavily on me. “I saw your Twitter today…”

His expression fell, and he let out a long sigh, indicating he knew exactly what this conversation was about to entail. He started to respond, but I interrupted him.

“Calm down,” he said, dismissing it as “just harmless posting.” That was the final straw. I told him I wanted a divorce, called him out for his deceit, and ended the call.

Jake rushed home immediately. We argued, but with Lily’s strict schedule, I couldn’t let the conflict drag on. He pleaded with me to have a proper conversation after putting Lily to bed. Reluctantly, I agreed. That night, he showed me his phone, revealing that he had deleted the Twitter account. But the damage was already done.

A week passed, and my anger hadn’t subsided. This wasn’t a simple misunderstanding. It was a breach of trust. Jake attempted to explain, claiming it started as a joke, but he got carried away with the attention it garnered. But excuses weren’t enough.

Motivated by a mix of hurt and the need for justice, I decided to expose him. I took screenshots of his tweets and shared them on my Facebook page. I wanted our friends and family to know the truth. My post was straightforward: “Your husband belittles you in front of his friends behind your back. Sound familiar?”

The response was immediate. Our relatives were shocked, and the comments poured in. Jake was inundated with messages and calls. He left work early once more to beg for my forgiveness. He knelt, tears in his eyes, pleading that it was all just a “silly game.”

But I couldn’t let it go. The trust that bound us together was broken. It wasn’t just about a few misguided posts; it was about the respect and understanding we were supposed to have for each other. I told him I needed time and space to think and heal. I moved out with Lily to another apartment.

For six months, Jake begged for forgiveness. He sent messages, left voicemails, and made small gestures to show he was sorry. But sorry wasn’t enough. I told him that if he truly wanted to make amends, we needed to start anew. In my eyes, we were strangers now, and he had to court me like he did years ago when we first met.

So, we began again, slowly. We went on dates, starting with coffee and progressing to dinners. We talked a lot — about everything except the past. It was like rediscovering ourselves individually and as a couple. Jake was patient, perhaps realizing this was his last chance to salvage our once-loving relationship.

As I sit here now, reflecting on the past year, I realize how much I’ve changed. This betrayal forced me to reevaluate not only my marriage but also myself and my needs. I’ve learned that forgiveness isn’t just about accepting an apology; it’s about feeling secure and valued again. It’s a gradual process, one that we’re both committed to, step by step.

What would you have done if you were in my shoes? Share your thoughts on Facebook.

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