Why Tattoos Have Become Millennials' Favorite Psychosomatic Healing Modality

Carroll wanted a tattoo to memorialize her friend, but she says the process has given her so much more. As she winced at the pain of the tattoo gun—yes, it almost always hurts—her internal wounds began to heal. "Getting out of your head and into your body is profound," says Carroll, a poet and mother of two who lives in Sacramento, California. "Whenever you suffer through something physical and come out the other side, it helps you deal with emotional pain. And then you're left with a permanent reminder to keep feeling."

Tattoos—once the purview of bikers, punks, and rebellious 18-year-olds—have circled back into symbols for wellness, a nod to tattooing's history as a spiritual and tribal practice, dating back millennia. Nowadays, tattoo artists have a heightened awareness of the process itself, whether it's imparting a healing touch, integrating music and crystals for a higher vibrational experience, or making sure the ink is non-toxic. Tattoo artists like Brooklyn-based Minka Sicklinger offer ritual tattoo sessions, sometimes partnering with spiritual healers and Tarot readers. Milic, who inked Carroll's back tattoo, considers tattooing a form of healing contact, akin to Reiki. While it's common now for people to ink their mantras on their wrists and for those who've lost loved ones to add initials to intricate tattoo designs, the process of piercing the flesh with an indelible mark can also help many people heal from emotional and physical pain.

And the benefits are more than skin-deep. There's the placebo effect: Believe something will help, and it does. "Feelings of hope can reduce stress and create a positive outlook, which has been documented to help healing," says Anna Friedman, a tattoo historian and the director of the Center for Tattoo History and Culture, a research organization. On the physical side, pain via tattoo needle sparks the release of endorphins. "Some people feel a type of high after getting tattooed," she says.

While endorphins are a powerful mood-booster, it's the permanence of tattoos that can serve as a lifeline for others. Renée Fabian, for example, tattooed the most vulnerable parts of her body—her arms—to protect herself from herself. Fabian started cutting after being sexually abused by a teacher in high school. By pressing a blade into her skin, she felt relief from feelings of depression and thoughts of suicide.

For artists like Sicklinger, playing a role in this process is a privilege. "I feel a connection to every single client, regardless of their reason for coming in," she says. "As the client moves through physical pain and fear of commitment [to a permanent tattoo]—which is a powerful experience in itself—I take that journey with them."

The journey to feeling transformed by a tattoo can take years, sometimes forever. Carroll's back tattoo—which has required five visits with Milic and 25 hours so far—isn't finished. It's an evolving process, much like its owner's healing. "I don't think I'll know the whole impact this tattoo will have on me until it's done," Carroll says. "Right now it's fragmented because I'm not all the way put back together either. But knowing that it's there, I definitely feel better."