Many people like to get body modifications such as tattoos to express their individuality.
However, some people are completely against these kinds of things. Kerstin Tristan was one of the latter till 2015, when one incident changed her mind for good…
Keep reading to find out more about her journey.
56-year-old Kerstin Tristan is a mother and grandmother. But her hobbies vary a little outside of what might be considered the ‘norm’ for a grandmother. She likes body modification art, mostly tattoos.
She has her entire body covered in tattoos at this point, and to dedicate herself to this level, she had to spend a lot of money. But she did not always love tattoos so much. In fact, she revealed that till 2015, she actually hated tattoos. What changed her mind about them? It was in the same year that she got her first one, which completely shifted her view on the practice.
“I simply just wanted to try something new. We all live just once, and I thought that at my age, something real has to come,” she shared.
Since 2015, she has managed to spend 30,000 euros (approx. US $32,000) on modifying her body with tattoos alone. But thankfully, she has gotten a lot of attention and love because of her actions.
Her Instagram account has over 190,000 followers, and her TikTok videos have millions of views.
She is not shy to show off her looks! She posts pictures of herself showing off her entire body on Instagram. But she did not always look like this, just a decade ago, she was tattoo-free and looked completely different. She sometimes posts comparison photos for people to see the drastic change.
The German-based influencer has images of vibrant roses on her legs, a leopard print tattoo on her shoulders, and several detailed portraits on her arms. These tattoos happen to be among dozens of others on her entire body.
She loves how she looks now, saying, ‘”When I look at myself in the mirror, I see a beautiful meadow full of flowers that one has to love.”
And she is not the only one who loves her look, one fan wrote, “A beautiful work of art.” While, another person wrote, “Wow stunning photo.”
If you liked this piece, you might like the story of Melanie Griffith’s tattoo for Antonio Banderas and the shocking appearance it has today, almost a decade after their divorce.
Expressing yourself is not something that should end with age. If anything, Kerstin is a wonderful example of how age should not define how you choose to express yourself to the world. What do you think of her tattoos? Let us know in the comments.
My Stepmom Gifted Me a Funerary Urn for My 17th Birthday
I always knew my stepmom, Monica, wasn’t exactly the nicest person—annoying, yes, but not evil. She was the type who would talk over me, forget my birthday, and call me “kiddo” even though I was practically an adult.
But what she did on my 17th birthday? It was the final straw.
It all started after my mom, Sarah, passed away when I was ten. After that, it was just me and Dad. We were a team—movie nights, pizza dinners, and a mutual understanding that we had each other’s backs, always.
Then Monica came along about three years ago. She wasn’t the worst, just kind of… there. She moved in, slowly took over the bathroom with her endless beauty products, and managed to inch her way into Dad’s life, whether I liked it or not.
Monica had dreams—big dreams—of opening a hair salon. I didn’t have a problem with people having dreams, but I had my own, too, and she treated me like I was an inconvenience that came with the house.
But I had a plan. College was my way out, and Dad had promised me from the time I was little that there was a college fund waiting for me. “Your mom and I set it up when you were five, Lila,” he’d say. “It’s all there, and I add to it every year.”
So, I worked hard in school, counting down the days until I could leave for college and start a life of my own.
On the morning of my 17th birthday, I wasn’t expecting much. Maybe some pancakes, a card—Dad was at work, so it was just Monica and me. But when Monica handed me a gift bag, things took a weird turn.
Inside the bag was a pink funerary urn. Yes, you read that right. An urn.
I stared at it, completely confused. “What the hell is this?” I asked.
Monica leaned against the kitchen counter, a smug look on her face. “It’s symbolic,” she said as if that explained anything.
“Symbolic of what?” I asked, already feeling a sinking feeling in my stomach.
Monica smiled wider. “It’s time to bury your college dreams, kiddo. Your dad and I decided to put that fund to better use.”
“Better use?” I repeated, my heart racing.
“Yep. We used it to help me open my salon. College is a gamble, Lila. But a business? That’s a real investment.”
I was frozen. Had they really taken my future, my college fund, and sunk it into Monica’s dream? How could my dad have let this happen?
“Life’s full of disappointments,” she added, as if that was supposed to be comforting.
I ran upstairs and slammed my door, sobbing harder than I ever had. Everything I’d worked for, everything my mom had wanted for me, was gone.
For the next few days, I barely spoke to either of them. Monica pranced around like she owned the house while I sat with the urn on my desk, a twisted reminder of what I had lost.
Then, a few days later, something strange happened.
When I got home from school, there was a note on my desk in Monica’s messy handwriting: Meet me at the salon at 6 P.M. tonight. No questions. Just trust me.
I almost laughed. Trust her? After what she did?
But my curiosity got the better of me, and against my better judgment, I went.
When I arrived at the salon, the lights were off, but the door was unlocked. Hesitant, I stepped inside. There, in the middle of the room, were Monica and my dad, both grinning.
“Surprise!” Monica shouted.
I was speechless.
“Look,” Monica said, stepping aside to reveal a shiny new sign on the wall: Dream Cuts: A Scholarship Fund in Honor of Sarah.
“What is this?” I asked, completely lost.
Monica’s smile softened. “We didn’t use your college fund, Lila. It’s all still there. The salon isn’t just for me—it’s for you, too. And for others like you. A portion of the profits will go toward funding scholarships in your mom’s name.”
I blinked, feeling like the ground was shifting beneath my feet.
“But… why make me think otherwise?” I asked, still trying to wrap my head around it.
Monica winced. “Yeah, the urn thing… That was not my best idea. I thought it would be motivational, like burying the past and embracing the future. Turns out, it was just creepy.”
Dad stepped forward, placing a hand on my shoulder. “We’ve been planning this for months. Your mom always wanted to help kids get to college. This way, her dream lives on.”
I stood there, stunned, my anger melting into something softer.
Monica looked at me earnestly. “I’m not trying to replace your mom, Lila. I just want to build something meaningful, something that helps you and others. I know I haven’t been the best stepmom, but I hope this can be a fresh start.”
For the first time in a long time, I smiled.
It wasn’t perfect, and maybe things with Monica never would be. But in that moment, standing in a salon named for my mom, I realized she wasn’t trying to destroy my future—she was trying to honor it in a way I hadn’t expected.
And yeah, I kept the urn. I planted peace lilies in it. Maybe it wasn’t the symbol Monica had intended, but it had become something new. A symbol of hope.
What would you have done in my shoes?
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