None_of_Your_Business

I was interested in piercing from the age of about 12. There was just something extremely enticing about being able to handle a small amount of pain to have a shiny metal bar or ring in my body. My parents did not share this interest, and neither did they want me to have it. At first, when I asked for piercings, the answer I received was an angry "no!" so I decided to start off with ear piercings. After getting quite a few of those, I felt I was ready to move on to body piercing. My parents, however, did not. Any excuse was used, including, "You're way too young!" and "It looks disgusting!" but I was certain that some day I was going to get piercings, regardless of whether they liked it or not. Eventually I did get some body piercings, and I was smart enough not to get any visible ones. Some came about with parental permission, some without, but there was no trouble nevertheless. It was all going great, and I decided that the rumour that piercings are addictive was definitel y true. I was certainly hooked. I cannot remember how the idea of getting my lip pierced came up, but I do remember seeing a tiny ring on the side of other people's lips and thinking, "I want that!" It was a matter of time before I decided I wanted my lip pierced. Then there was the small matter of convincing the parents. After a fair few months hassling them, I realised that there was no way my mum would be kind enough to let me have it. I was going to have to wait - but I had serious patience problems, or take any opportunity. The opportunity came when I started going out with a boy called Aaron. Aaron worked in a hotel and earned his own money, quite a lot of it too. One day we were talking about piercings (one of my favourite subjects) and I mentioned that I planned on getting my lip pierced one day. Aaron's response was, "I want mine pierced too. If you want, we can get them done at the same time. I can pay for yours." As soon as he said it, I agreed. Everything; parents' wrath, school's problem with piercings and everything else seemed insignificant in comparison to the new piercing I was going to get. We decided on a Saturday, and I invited a couple of friends with me for moral support. The Saturday came, and I met up with Aaron and the friends to walk to the tattoo/piercing studio, which was not too far off Rochester High Street. For the first time in my life, I was nervous about getting a piercing. I kept telling myself, "I had piercings done before, I'll be fine" but was scared nevertheless. This was going to by my first visible body piercing (but unfortunately, very short-lived, as I was soon to find out). As soon as we walked in, Mike, the piercer recognised me. He was friendly and welcoming, and I calmed down a little. After telling him I wanted my lip pierced (with a ring, on the left side of the lip), he began preparing the "torture tools" - my least favourite part of being in the studio. He told me to lie down on the chair, which was not unlike a dentist's chair and marked my lip with a special pen to show me where the piercing would go. After checking I was happy with the placement, he took the needle out of its' plastic wrapping, all that time putting up with the stereotypical questions I asked, "Does it hurt'" (A little bit, but not afterwards), "What does it feel like'" (A needle going through your lip, it is not that painful), "Are you going to spray the numbing stuff on it beforehand'" (No, that will make your lip swell up and go purple). Finally, the moment came. I held my friend Ruth's hand and closed my eyes. Mike clamped my lip and... shoved the needle through it. It was one of the strangest feelings in the world. Certainly not as painful as I expected, but not unpleasant. I think it was the adrenaline rush that made it so... weird. Before I knew it, the ring was in and Mike was trying to put the ball in. At one point, he dropped it in my mouth and I caught it with my tongue. Finally, the ball was on and it was Aaron's turn to get pierced. I think I missed it; I was too busy staring in the mirror and admiring my beautiful new piercing. Finally, Aaron got up, paid for both our piercings and we were out. I was on a high. I loved the piercing, and I probably would have loved it even more if I knew how long (or should I say short') I was going to have it for. I did not go home that night; I went to a club and then stayed round a friend's house. Strangely enough, I was able to stop my thoughts of "how the hell am I going to tell my parents'" but in the morning I realised I had to face the consequences. Walking through the door with a surprise piercing was simply not an option for me, so I ended up calling my mum and asking her to call me back. She did so, and I had to say it. "Mum, I need to tell you something. Just don't be angry at me." "What is it'" "Just promise me you won't be angry at me." "I promise, what is it'" "I got my lip pierced yesterday." She went silent for a long time after that, probably about a minute or two, but that might just be how it seemed to me. The next thing she said was, "go home, now". I did not expect her to be happy, but I still felt slightly annoyed at her reaction. How could she not understand that I wanted this piercing, that it made me feel happy and even better looking' Why would she not let me do this, knowing that it made me, her daughter, feel better about herself as a person' When I walked through the door, my mum took one look at me, did not say a word and walked off into the kitchen in silence. I went upstairs and lay on the bed, reading. Then my stepdad came up. He surprised me by saying "personally, I hate it, but if it makes you happy then I am willing to put up with it". He proceeded to tell me that it was going to be hard for me to get a job with it on, and if I had any problems with it at school then it was going to have to come out. I was stupid enough to agree to that, thinking that a lot of people at school had nose piercings, and a lip piercing was not going to be any different, right' Wrong. On the first day at school, I was terrified but I consoled myself with the thought that even if I was told to take it out, it was not physically possible. Not just because it was a new piercing - I would not be able to undo the ring. It was a BCR - the ball on the ring had tiny dents in the sides, which held the ends of the ring in place. This made it impossible to undo without special tools. I managed to go through the first few lessons by pretending I was thinking about something and covering the piercing with my hand. A couple of teachers asked me about it but were content with my answer that it was coming out as soon as possible. However, the last two periods were P.E. I spoke to the P.E. teacher and she sent me to the library to sit on my own. At the end of the day, I went home to find out that the school phoned my parents and complained about the piercing. No big deal, I thought. Wrong again. The next day started off horribly, as if it was warning me that something bad was going to happen, and surely enough, it did. It was pouring down with rain and I missed my bus to school. As I got off the next bus, soaked and miserable, I decided to go to reception to sign the late book. If I knew what was going to happen, I would have avoided it at all costs. Mrs Winn, the deputy head teacher, was in the foyer, talking to some other teacher. As I walked past, she turned round and aggressively told me to take the piercing out. I told her as calmly as I could that it was impossible to do, but I am not sure she even listened to me. She dragged me to her office, called my mum and then had a go at me. As she carried on, I found myself getting angry and upset. What was the problem' It was only a piercing, it was not hurting me or anyone around me, and it was not affecting my schoolwork. Everyone else seemed to think differently and it was beyond my understanding why. The advantage was not on my side. I went ahead and got a piercing without my parents' consent while being under 16 - and 16 is the legal age for piercings. I think that Mrs Winn even said that she was going to call the police about the studio, as they broke the law by piercing me. I was so frustrated I just wanted to scream. I kept thinking, "Why does this have to happen t o me'" I spent most of that day sitting in a corridor in isolation. I was shaking with cold and could not do any work. All I could do was sit there, on the verge of tears, thinking that I might have to take the piercing out, and doodle something on a piece of paper. Finally, my mum came to collect me. By that time, she was not as angry with me as she was before, so we talked for some time. She told me that the school sent me home and told me not to come back until I took the piercing out. I wanted to say that in that case, I would not be coming back to school, but I knew that was impossible. Deep down, I knew it was my fault for all this trouble happening in the first place, but I refused to accept that. I could not understand why it was acceptable for other people, like a friend of mine that is in 6th form at the moment, to have piercings, but I got hounded by teachers, parents and everyone else about it. Understandably, my friends sympathised with me when I told them about the problem. One of them suggested I "fight the system" but what could I do on my own' Start a petition' True, one of the best colleges in England has no dress code at all, and this school regards it as one of the things more important than an education - a girl got sent out for wearing a blue jumper that was not part of the school uniform (ridiculous) - but there was nothing I could do about it. My friend Jay probably gave the best advice to me. He told me that there was nothing I could do about it, and it would be better to get an education rather than a lip ring, which I could get after leaving school anyway. I had to make a decision by the next day, although my parents already made that decision for me, one that I reluctantly agreed to. "Mum," I said, coming into the kitchen. "I decided that I will take my lip piercing out." Her face brightened, but I hastily added, "Only if I can have my nose pierced instead." She agreed, and in the evening, when my stepdad came home from work, he brought some metal wire cutters with him. It took me a lot more courage to say, "go ahead and cut the ring into pieces" than it did to get the lip pierced and face the consequences, especially as I went through the consequences and they were not as bad as I thought they would be. Finally, I stood up; he put the cutters to the ring and cut it in half. I guess I still was not calm enough or happy about having to take it out, as I burst into tears, cried, "I hope you're happy now!" and ran upstairs. That was it. No more lip piercing. For the first few days, I hated every second of not having the piercing anymore. Even though I only had it for a few days, I was starting to love being able to play with it and just having it there in the first place, and now it was not there anymore. Aaron and me split up a couple of days after that. I do not think it was anything to do with the piercing, but he did keep teasing me about not being able to keep it, which I found annoying in a funny way. Luckily, we are still friends and he still has his lip pierced - but he did not have school waiting for something wrong with his appearance so they could pick on it! The experience taught me a fair few things as well as stirred up a few unpleasant feelings about the school's attitude towards their students' appearance. I know that getting a piercing in the middle of the school term was probably not the best or the smartest thing to do, but that temptation was impossible to resist. I still feel bitter and angry whenever I think about how the school treated it, and I think it was unfair to be so harsh. Since then, I have gotten various piercings, mainly on the ears, but I know that I will get my lip re-pierced again some day. And this time, the ring will be in my lip for a lot longer than four days.