Tuesday, June 5, 2012

The piercing wars

 I love my piercings. They all carry a meaning to me and remind me during hard times that I can in fact face the world, laugh, be a woman in my own way, love a boyfriend and be myself. I think they are beautiful, like me.

But I can't get that through to my family.

My earlobe holes got pierced with a piercing gun, several times. There was infection, crookedness and luckily no contamination with a blood-borne disease. Ever since finding out the dangers and barbariousness of the practice, I'm opposed to the use of piercing guns. But I didn't have much choice. Or perhaps I had too much of a choice. What six-year-old girl, when surrounded by women cooing over jewelry, will not jump at the chance to fit in with the grown-ups? I was asked, I said yes. There was lousy aftercare advice given and things went wrong. I wore earrings until I lost one at 12 years old. Then I sort of forgot they were there.

Then came my HCH piercing at age 20. I was given a project during therapy centered around my femininity. I worked at a painting as I meditated on what it meant for me to be a woman. A scandalous article on genital piercings I'd read four years prior came to mind. Like then, it held its appeal. But the desire had changed. I was no longer a teen desperate for the approval and admiration of classmates who couldn't care less what I did. The more I researched genital piercings, the more I wanted one. I did more than just look up what metal I could put in my nether regions and how--I looked up how to place a piercing safely. I even had one in mind--a triangle--but a good, safe piercer proved hard to find. When I did find one, he chose not to place triangles--as is his right--but he did agree to a horizontal clitoral hood piercing. It looks similar, but does less. In the end, I'm happier with it than I think I could have been with the triangle. It's a purely decorative piercing, to be shared with myself and those most intimate with me, and it reminds me that I overcame depression, crippling anxiety and social paranoia and came out knowing myself better.

A year and a half later came my nostril piercing. I had my very first cast--the cast to end my neverending ankle pain--and wanted to commemorate the event. I'm sad to say less research went into this piercing. I thought cartilage made no difference--boy was I wrong. I got a bump, like a lot of cartilage piercings will get. I removed my piercing and tried again four months later. The bump came back. I went on a forum and asked about it--it was a normal cartilage bump. It would go away on its own if I let it be. It's still there, but my current jewelry hides it well. It's also one of my few visible piercings that can be seen as socially unacceptable. It makes me smile.

I was at my boyfriend's apartment for a week when I got my nostril repierced. He asked what I wanted for Valentine's day--we would miss it by a few days when school started again--and I admitted I liked the idea of a belly button piercing. I'd put some research into this, I knew it could get infected and took a very long time to heal, but the urge was still there. He was nervous about watching someone put a needle through my skin--again--but agreed to it anyway. I loved him for his bravery. In a lot of ways, my navel piercing has been like a relationship. It took a while to get comfortable, and I've worried a lot about it, I've pampered and cared for it and it turned into something I wasn't expecting. It's still healing and looks raw--sensitive skin doesn't like being dried out for weeks on end--but I've got hope for the future, just like I have hope for my relationship.

And then it was quiet for two months. My piercing adventure had quickened a lot faster than expected, and my mother was not happy. The ring in my nose was too big--oh, I had another one in my belly button. Just perfect. I would never get a job and what would people think if they saw me in the street? The nagging got so bad I ordered a smaller nostril jewel and changed it before it was fully healed. My attempt at compromise weren't appreciated, but mom quieted down for a while about the new piercings.

Not about my ears though. A few weeks later, I reached the stage in stretching my ears where it became slightly noticeable. I had started around the winter holidays and slowly inched my way to 3 mm, with 6 mm as my end goal. My mother thought it looked cute--until my brother told her that I wasn't wearing ordinary earrings, but things that made 'large, stinky holes' in my earlobes. For the rest of the stretching process, I lived with my mother like we usually went to clothing stores. I stuck to my guns and she disapproved loudly.

I reached 6mm three weeks ago and received blue glass tunnels for my trouble from my boyfriend, who wanted me to have something nice, something durable and something sanitary. I think they're gorgeous. My mother thinks they're awful. My father disapproves, but accepts that there comes a point in life where you can't dictate your child's life any longer. I have a cousin studying medicine who worries for my health as a born again christian might for my soul. Her sister thinks it's cool--provided I can put a pencil through my ears. Maybe someday. In the meanwhile, I clean my lobe holes and jewelry at least once a day. How many women wearing studs can say that?

The forum I found earlier opened a world of possibilities: talented jewelry manufacturers, aftercare tips, stories on living with the actual piercings, information on healing times and piercing processes and an extensive list of piercers in Belgium and the Netherlands. I was in heaven. I browse the forum daily and am still trying desperately to win the weekly competition for a 25 euro shopping spree. I dream about what I could buy with 25 euros--glass, for example.

When looking around for jewelry, I found a glass, funny, curly... something. It was called a 'foppish moustache'. Customer pictures showed that it went through the nasal septum--it was for a septum piercing. I thought this piercing was rather rare, until I discovered that half the jewelry on offer for it are 'retainers'.

Retainers exist for many piercings. They're jewelry you wear when, for whatever reason, you can't wear metal (or sometimes rigid) jewelry. Usually, they're not pretty, but septum retainers occasionally come in fun colors. And septum retainers can hide the fact that you have the piercing at all. You flip up the prongs into your nose and poof! nothing to see here, folks.

But the moustache made me laugh. And stuck in my head like an annoying summer hit. Buy me, it whispered, wear me. But I didn't have a septum piercing--and the jewelry was for a septum piercing with a larger gauge than is standard. So I decided I would get it at a larger gauge--2,5 mm, as soon as I had the money to spare for it. By the time March drew to an end, I had the money. I carefully polled my parents on how they would feel about me getting another piercing the next time I was in Germany. I was told I might not be allowed to leave the country again. So with some leftover teenage logic, I got the piercing in Belgium, three days before I left for Germany. I found a reputable shop and asked if they could do what I wanted. It was no problem at all.

I've had my septum piercing for nine weeks now. It's healed, and the moustache is waiting in its box for use. My parents still don't know I have it. Retainers hide a lot.

And the piercing wars continue.

As my moving plans are temporarily on hold, I want to get my nipples pierced to commemorate the event. I found a store with glowing reviews all around, less than two hours away from where I live. I'm a bit scared to get them pierced in Germany, as I don't have any reference points to who delivers good work and who delivers excellent work near Coburg. And as much as I love piercings, I need these to be perfect.

Of course, my parents want to hear nothing of it. I only have to mention 'piercing shop' to get a resounding NO. My arguments don't matter, won't even be heard. But I still want them. I'm fairly sure I can afford them. And it would mean so much to me... So the nipples will get pierced. Maybe not immediately (or maybe very immediately), but someday.

Oh, well, to be continued I guess?

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