Four years ago I was scrolling down my Tumblr dashboard and came across a picture of a cute girl with a little diamond stud adorning her freckled nose. Before then, I had never really thought of how I would look with a ring or a stud. In the distant past, my mom gave me a fake silver ring once that I would secure in my septum and freak out my classmates in middle school for laughs. I decided to indulge in my fantasies; I clicked on picture to picture at lightning speed, only stopping to briefly gaze with unapologetic fervor at the dozens of women ornamented with fake gold rings and dazzling sterling silver studs. "Would it make me appear more edgy?" The thought sizzled in my mind like vegan bacon. I decided to ask one of my (ex) friends her opinion on the matter.
"Your nose doesn't have the right shape for a piercing," she replied. What she meant was, "your nose is too big, so why would you want to bring more attention to it?" Ironically, her nose wasn't much of a cute little button either, yet she proudly flared her nostrils any chance she got. Her ring glistened in the light of her smugness. At that moment, my cheeks resembled pink plump peaches about to burst from embarrassment.
"Oh, I was just kidding. I knew that," I lied. I felt my once flaming urge to be bold reduce to flickering, dwindling ash.
One year later, I was home alone and felt different. My skin felt an intangible itchiness that I could not escape. A warm breeze emptied into my room and I soaked up its deliciousness. With that, something came over me, and I knew I had to chase this feeling... I had to change something about myself. I studied my face in the mirror. My hair? I didn't have the money for a new color, nor was I having enough of a Britney crisis to shave my head and have zero regrets. My eyes focused in on my nose. The butt of many anti-Semitic jokes in middle school, my nose was never something I could get away from.
I was so afraid of making the wrong decisions that I wasn't living. It was time to be free.
But that day, the feelings flushed back into my system with one wave of deja vu-- I wanted a nose piercing again. I was about to message three of my friends, my mom, and my boyfriend for validation and opinions when something inside me made me put the phone down. Why did I always feel the need to seek validation from others? Why was I so afraid of making the wrong decisions even though I know that I am an intelligent woman? Why was I allowing other people to dictate what I do with my body?
I plugged in the address for a tattoo and piercing parlor with the highest rating into Uber and I went. At first, I didn't know that I was on the verge of major growth in my development as an independent woman. I shut out all thoughts of what I assumed my parents were going to think and the initial judgment from my ex-friend. A quick signing-of-my-rights-away here, a dot-to-an-i there, a flash of my I.D. to prove that I was at least eighteen, and then I was ready.
The actual piercing of my nose was not as bad as I expected, and the pain only lasted a few seconds (I still shed a single tear, but I had to keep still). I couldn't stop looking in the mirror. I couldn't believe it! My body was teeming with urgency to share the news to the whole world. For a while, though, I didn't. I soaked in this newfound independence, a radiant blast of energy gusting through me. I found myself walking differently and looking at the world through different eyes. I enjoyed this feeling. I craved this feeling. I couldn't wait to pursue it even more.
I walked out of the parlor feeling more confident and fresh than ever. Since then, I started trusting my own intuition. I realized that I am the only one living and breathing in this body and I will die in it. That's me. That's all of us. Maybe I can do this adult thing after all.
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