Pierced!

I can still remember when I was probably sixteen years old saying, "I'm going to get my nose pierced." It was one of those things I said over and over as something I'd wanted to do, but knew deep in my heart that I probably never would, that I was too chicken, and especially too chicken for something that was so outwardly obvious. I pierced my ears many, many times; the lobe, the middle, the cartilage up top. I even got brave in my early twenties and pierced my belly button. That was before I had the boys, so obviously that went by the wayside and I'm left with a shrunken hole (I can't believe I just said "shrunken hole." he he) in my navel that I was excited to discover is not closed, but also not big enough to ram a bar back in it. All it takes is some special instrument and $10 and I'm back in the belly charm biz. But I just chalked up my nose-ring talk as just talk, and went on about my life.

Over the course of the last sixteen years, since I was sixteen, I've revisited the idea of a charm in my nose. Not anything too weird; I'm not the type of person who would look right (or be able to stand for the drama of that needle!) with one in the septum, or even anything too big and strange. Just a small little diamond (okay, cubic zirc) in the corner of my nose, started sounding appealing all over again.

I did what I did best, which is make up my mind and change it. Over and over. All talk, no show. Famous. For years, I wanted to do it, but frankly, was too scared. Obviously it had to hurt, right? And I remembered the burn of the belly button needle (and the look on my friend April's face when they went to stab me in the gut) and kept pushing the idea of a nose ring back, again.

Of course, too, I am brilliant when it comes to making up excuses. I'm the queen of them! It didn't matter that I was in sales (insurance sales) where I convinced myself that it would be "tacky" and "unprofessional." I grasped on the "unprofessional" label and ran with it, like a football tucked under my arm. So, fear, talking big, and rationalizing my fears with excuses...Sound familiar?

I'm 32 years old. I suddenly no longer care what people think. If someone likes it, I'm happy. If not, so what? What matters to me is that I like it, and that my husband does, too. And it was his reaction to my lofty talk about doing it that finally convinced me that it was okay. That if that's what I wanted, well, go for it. In a way, he was calling me on my talk.

So...I did it!

I spent quite a few hours first on the internet, researching how it was done, what the tools looked like (no more big surprises! I don't need a reason to change my mind again!), how long it would take, and of course I wanted to know how bad it hurt. I stayed far, far away from the YouTube videos that came up in some of my Scroogle searches. But finally, I decided I was ready.

Friday afternoon I dropped Willie off at school and I turned left out of the school parking lot instead of right and headed off towards Greenfield, the home of the place where I ultimately decided to get hole-punch done. I turned up the tunes and drove fast on the country roads, getting myself psyched. I was just as scared as I was excited, but dammit, the time had come and I was not turning back! I stopped by to see a friend (who recently had hers done at the same place) for support and then went off to have mine done, too.

I pulled up in front of the small blue building, okay maybe it wasn't that easy. So I had to drive around it a couple times to figure out where to park, since there was an insurance agency adjoined to their building, and that agency took up the parking lot. I finally found a sign for parking on the side, parked the car, and walked in. Marching up to the display case of body jewelry, I took a look around to make sure the place was clean and somewhere I would feel safe. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, and coupled with people I trust having been customers, I was finally 100% totally ready. Onward ho!

I knew that I wanted a gemstone stud. I preferred the look of a diamond, but considered the other colors available. I was immediately drawn to red but I also liked the blue and the green. I didn't care much for the pinky-purple stone, because frankly I hate pink. And purple. I dismissed blue because my eyes are green and I don't want any other colors to take away from my eye color. I dismissed green when I thought to myself, "what if someone thinks its a green booger?" Yuck. Okay...green is out. Red? Love it...but what if it ends up looking like I always have a zit? Nahh...White, aka diamond, it is!

At this point, I was still feeling confident. Everything I read, teemed up with everything that I had been told by friends who had it done, said that the pain would last between five to ten seconds and then that was it. I hopped up on the cot and waited while the piercer (is that what he's called?) prepped the jewelry and his tools. We talked about how piercings have changed since we were younger and how more generally accepted they are, and how that was a big factor in why I waited until my thirties to have jewelry on my face. And finally it was time. He showed me first what he was going to do, which was exactly how I read it would be done. After prepping my nose, he inserted the metal tube inside my nostril that catches the needle and then it was time. I felt the heat from the needle prick pushing against my skin. I shut my eyes and waited for the tears to come, because they do. I don't care who you are, the tears will pour being in such close proximity to the tear duct. And they did. You would have thought it hurt a helluva lot worse if you were judging by the waterfall. And it did hurt, don't think for a second it didn't. But it was so quick. Ten seconds of a sharp, intensive pain and then it was almost over. Just putting in the jewelry itself was left, and that wasn't painful, just awkward because the stem of the ring is actually somewhat cork-screw shaped so that it doesn't just fall out and so that there is no earring back inside my nose. It was done! Time to clean up the blood (yes, blood. It's a hole being punched in my face, of course there's gonna be some blood!) and voila! I finally did it.

I looked in the mirror and instantly loved it. It is in the perfect place, it's not glaringly obvious, and it finally makes my nose look like something I like! And if you've known me for very long, you probably know that I have hated my nose since, oh, birth. I always thought it was big and awkward-looking, especially having been broken many years ago, but now I like it! I felt fine, despite looking a little pale, but I sat for a couple minutes so the piercer could be sure I was okay. I guess people pass out often from having piercings and tattoos, and I was looking like a candidate for hitting the floor. The only discomfort I felt was the puffiness of the swelling that came immediately after inserting the ring. Other than that, the pain was gone. I couldn't wait to stop and show my friend that I didn't chicken out! I hurried over the whole two blocks to her salon to show off my new pretty nose, and then hurried home to show Aaron.

It looks great, it doesn't hurt, and the swelling went down within two hours. I love, love, love it and I'm so proud of myself for finally doing it after all these years!! As for pictures, well I wanted to put one up but my camera batteries have to recharge. But I'll put it up. You'll see it. Promise!