I may have alluded to this here before, but my parents were big into control – control over what I watched on TV, the movies I saw, the friends I had, the places I went – they were in charge of every facet of my life. I spent years begging them to let me get my ears pierced. Years. And then I spent a few more years lobbying to get my ears double pierced. And then I got older and rebellious and one night I got drunk and got some girl at a party pierce my left ear for the third time. It seems silly now, but at the time it was a VERY BIG DEAL. I hid that defiant third piercing from my mom for months, but she caught on one night at dinner, and oh, the fun and shouting that followed. My parents did not look kindly on my attempts to break out on to my own path, but there was nothing to be done about this particular one – the piercing had healed and wouldn’t close over.

I was so proud of that disobedient little hole. It was my first real victory in declaring who I was as opposed to who my parents thought I should be. I spent most of high school sneaking around, hiding my clothes in my friend Laila’s car because my mom would snoop around in mine, lying about where I was going and what I was doing, but the ear piercing, that was out in the open.

This weekend, while riffling through the chipped little porcelain box where I keep my earrings, I came across the small silver hoops I used to wear in those second and third holes. These days I’m lucky if I manage to remember to put in one set of earrings, but for some reason, when I saw those little silver hoops, I thought I’d put them in. Nope. Those second holes, which I longed for so badly (and which were done by a professional) are still open in the front, but are totally closed up in the back. The earrings just wouldn’t go through. Ironically, that controversial third hole, done by a tipsy high school girl with a sewing needle and an ice cube, is still open, but the double piercing is a thing of the past.

I never did take the path my parents wanted for me, but I’ve built a good life on my own terms. I could re-pierce my ears, I suppose, but I don’t think I will. I guess I don’t have quite so much to prove as I did when I was a teenager.

Posted by Bad Penguin at September 4, 2006 11:58 PM