I've been somewhat fascinated by body modification all of my life. It probably started when I was a young child I remember my mother's younger sister getting a nose stud. I thought it looked incredibly neat. I was also fascinated with the people I would see in National Geographic and similar magazines, people with huge earlobes and tattoos covering their bodies. I even loved the pictures in my history book drawn by John White of the Powatan Indians in the days of early colonization in Virginia, the people being covered with head to toe scarification. I always thought these modifications were beautiful, but nothing I would ever want to do for myself. It wasn't until I reached my early teens that I started to feel the need to get modifications myself.
At A Glance Author unamedfreek Contact [email protected] Artist ? Studio ? Location ? My longings were not influenced by what was popular, though this was in the late eighties and early nineties when body piercing was beginning to come into vogue and be more accepted by the public, at least within the more "mainstream" subcultures such as grunge and punk (just to name a few). I was always rather opposed to having anything to do with anything popular; I was always just happy to do my own thing. Point being that my interest in body modification was not sparked by any sort of trend. The reason I did start to get into it would elude me until later in my life.
My first real foray into the world of bodymods began when I was fifteen. I was young and ignorant, but knew I wanted to get a piercing somewhere on my body. I knew it would have to be in a place that my parents would not see, as they were decidedly against piercing and tattooing, so I decided on doing my navel, figuring they would never see it there as long as I didn't take off my shirt around them. Needless to say, they did find out eventually, and so that part was over. Not long after, I started to do a self-tapped tattoo on my ankle, using a needle and some India ink. Again, not a smart thing to do, but as I said, I was young and ignorant. I didn't do anything else until I was eighteen, at which point I got my septum pierced professionally, knowing that it was easily hidden with a retainer. Over the next few years I progressed, getting many other piercings, tattoos, brands, and cuttings. My parents ultimately found out about these and were certainly not happy, but knew they couldn't realistically do anything about it.
It never really occurred to me why I was doing this. I knew I liked the way my mods looked, but this, it seemed, was only an underlying reason. When people asked "why?" I was never able to answer to the satisfaction of either them or myself. Now in order for the rest of this article to really make sense, I need to explain some of my more personal background. When I was about fourteen or fifteen, I was diagnosed with severe bipolar disorder, also known as manic-depression. I tried to kill myself several times and went through many different medications trying to find a combination that worked (something that eluded me until actually only about three months ago). There were no clues really as to what was a major cause of my illness. We knew things that were contributing factors: being frequently severely harassed in school, some hereditary factors, but there was more, something that several of my doctors (I had been to quite a few) and my mother said was "like a black cloud" hanging over me. My life before I reached my early teen years was mostly a blank. I still remember not more than about ten percent of anything that happened to me before I turned fourteen. It seemed that something happened that I blocked out that affected me greatly. What this was didn't come to light until very recently.
One of my brothers is very close in age to me, only eighteen months younger, and recently himself has begun to get into body modification, most likely following my lead. Last Thanksgiving my family visited another family we are friends with, they having several children close in age to myself and my siblings. Their older son used to babysit myself and my brother when we were young, and neither of us had seen him for a very long time. Over that weekend we were there, some memories began to surface in my brother's mind. Apparently when we were young, he had been abused sexually by this young man. He told both my parents and myself about this and asked if it had ever happened to me. I told him I didn't know since I had no memory of it, or really anything else from that time period.
This got me thinking though. It probably did happen. Evidence pointed to it, but i had no memory of it. Until a few weeks ago when some memories of incidents where i was sexually abused began to surface. It was at this point that things began to be clear for me. (PAy attention now, this is where i reveal the whole point of this long rambling thing). I started to realize the real reason why i had been modifying myself to the extremes i had (no meatomies yet, but implants are in the works, and i did give myself a beautiful brand). I had been doing this all along in order to reclaim my body for myself. Things that had happened to me and my body that i had no control over. By doing these things to myself, and allowing certain people to pierce me, ink me, cut me, and burn me, i was taking control of myself again. I was no longer a victim, but the one in charge. No one can do anything to me again without my permission. All along i had been subconciously trying to be at peace with myself again. When your innocence is stripped at such an early age, it makes it very hard to go on living. Modifcation has allowed me to have to will to go on and try and live my life as a functional member of society.
I know this is certainly far from the only reason people get modified, yet i am sure it is not an uncommon reason. Please feel free to e-mail me about this article. Due to the nature of the topic, i wish to remain anonymous, but you can send mail to this address: