I got my ears pierced for the first time when I was five years old and didn’t even flinch. Apparently, I’d even asked if the piercer had done it yet afterwards. Shortly after, my uncle gifted me a large pack of cute earrings out of the goodness of his heart – only for us to discover that I had a pretty intense nickel allergy. I ended up having to take the earrings out and let the piercings heal over. I got them re-pierced probably a year or two later.
Then, when I was a freshman in high school, I got my first cartilage piercing. I felt so cool afterwards, I wanted everyone to look and see the little silver ball in the shell of my ear. Then, about a year later, I got two more cartilage piercings – only to have one pierced at the wrong angle and get infected (thank you, Claire’s). I had to let the infected piercing heal over, but the other one was fine, and I’ve since decorated it with a beautiful opal stud.
My next piercing was a daring one – my nipples. It was something I’d wanted for a couple years, and now as a nineteen year old, I was able to spend my own money and go to a professional piercer. It was a quick and fun experience – my piercer was totally professional and friendly, and I ended up leaving with a cute pair of barbells. My first body piercing I thought to be my last.
Shortly after, my mom invested in a rook piercing for my migraines – I’ve had chronic migraines since I was a pre-teen. This has been by far the most painful piercing experience, and has helped my migraines (other than tension migraines), and I am so grateful for it. Though the piercer was unfamiliar, I felt welcome and safe despite the pain.
After last summer, I returned to school thinking I would pierce my second and third earlobe holes myself – who needs to pay for that to be done professionally? – before my mom begged me to go to a professional. I went back to the piercer who had done my nipples, and I got my second and third holes all in one day – I was very sore afterwords.
Just this Saturday, I got my bellybutton pierced, and I’ve found myself a little sad in the wake of it. It didn’t hurt, and I went back to the same piercer I returned to for my second and third holes, so it was very familiar. I’m not sad because I don’t like it – I actually love it and have already planned what I want to replace the piercer ring with. I’m sad because this feels like the end of my piercing journey.
My only deal I’ve made with my mom was no face piercings, which I never wanted in the first place, so it’s never been a problem. I don’t think I’ll ever get a dermal piercing and I will never get a genital piercing. All that’s left are my ears. It feels like I’m nearing the end of my reasonable amount of piercings – I do want a professional career, after all.
I hadn’t prepared myself to acknowledge this. I love piercings so much, and getting a new one is always a (hopefully) fun journey. I will be able to continue with tattoos, which I’ve only gotten three of so far, but there’s something special to me about getting a new piercing, and I won’t have that more than two more times in the future. I suppose this is my loving goodbye to my favorite experience, I’ve treasured all of them along the way.