My face feels empty. My ears feel like someone else's. A few weeks ago, I had many ear piercings, 3 lip rings, a 10g tongue piercing, an eyebrow ring, and a pair of nipple piercings. My ears had been full of jewelry for about 7 years or so, in various incarnations of gauges and angles and materials. My side lip rings were still healing and, ironically, not doing so well anyway.
At A Glance Author SpikeyAnnie IAM SpikeyAnnie When N/A Now I have an 18g eyebrow ring, a 10g tongue piercing, a pair of nipple barbells, a 14g center lip ring, and in each ear, 2 lobe piercings (4g and 10g) and a 14g industrial. It might seem like a fair amount of mods, but to me it feels like I haven't been this unadorned in a while.
So what happened? Well no, I didn't have some big epiphany about how I didn't really want all those piercings anyway, because I do want them. And nobody paid me to do it, and I'm not even looking for a job at the moment.
I just got sick of it. I live in Savannah, Georgia, and despite the fact that I go to art school there and you would think everybody would be used to seeing freaky art school kids around, that is not the case. I'm from Boston. I'm used to being able to go into the city and not have people bat an eye at how I look, because they know as well as I do that I'm just another human being.
Not here. Here, in my previous, heavily-pierced state, I couldn't walk 3 blocks to class without getting stared at or asked some stupid (or horrifyingly personal) question. Usually by somebody who either thinks gold teeth are the height of fashion, or who thinks the Confederate flag looks good as a giant sticker on the back of their pick-up truck.
Some of these questions and incidents include things like: "Did that hurt?" and then a poke at my ears, or "What possessed you to do that to yourself?" and then, at my furious silence and glare, "Isn't that expensive?" Or maybe I should recall the time at CVS when two girls, in all their gold-teethed and Fubu glory, proceeded to whisper to each other and point to my piercings and then say, "Damn, that's a lot of metal" like I wasn't even three feet away from them looking at a stick of deodorant wondering if it would be a suitable blunt object for throwing at them in disgust. What about the clerk in one store who failed to realize that I was in a hurry to get to class and instead interrogated me with no respect at all? What about the guy in the hardware store who asked in a drawl, "Are you a boy or a girl?" as if it will have some sort of stellar impact on his life, and then, "So, you got any piercings that ya can't see?"
I don't fit in here. At all. I walk around alone with my head up and my eyes narrowed, headphones on, shoulders hunched. I walk like I'm 6 foot 2 and 200 pounds because I have to. In a day, unless I'm with friends or in class, I will maybe utter 3 sentences.
And somehow a few weeks ago, all of this came to a head and exploded and I just got really tired of having to be polite to the asshole who asked me what it's like to kiss with 3 lip rings. I got really tired of having to come up with an answer that won't make me look like an idiot, when people ask if it hurt. I got really tired of restraining myself from ripping their pathetic, redneck, conformist heads off and instead, smiling and shaking my head. I got really tired of getting scrutinized every waking moment of my life, my personal values constantly under fire, my opinions ignored while they blathered on about how could a pretty girl like me (if they even realized I was a girl; I have been mistaken for a boy many times around here) do this to herself.
So I went home, and just started taking stuff out and began the long process of rubbing oil into my ears to break down old scars. It felt strange because I thought, "Whew, I'm safe" like I had just escaped a bullet, but meanwhile--I had just escaped a bullet, and that sucked! This was not a decision that I made just for the hell of it, it was a decision that was drastically affected by the outside world. It was a desperate move. It was after a day at the dentist when they yelled at me about all my piercings (yes, all of them) and I stood in the bathroom before getting panoramic tooth x-rays, painstakingly taking out every single one of them so the technician's job could be easier and I could be left alone in peace, for once, even as the technician laughed when I emerged as unpierced as the day I was born. So the chip on my shoulder had grown quite a bit and then, I just totally fucking lost it.
This was the first time ever, that I had bought into everybody else's opinions hook, line, and sinker, without any defiance. The only compromise consisted of the piercings that I kept, because I had to have something, and I didn't feel the need to take out all of them, just enough of them to give me some time to live my life without getting harassed. It was heartbreaking.
Sitting here now, I don't really know what will happen in my future, because I could either end up doing this many times with grim, bitter resignation, or I could decide that nobody--nobody, I tell you!--can push me around; and to survive, I could simply develop what I call a Zero Tolerance policy, which is:
When people stare at me, I will glare back at them and then kindly request that they take a picture instead of staring because staring is rude and at least if they take a picture, I'll feel famous and they'll be able to stare at the picture all they damn well want. When people ask me if it hurt, I will glare again and ask, "What the hell do you think?" When they ask me what possessed me to do this, or what a pretty girl is doing with piercings like that, or how terrible it is because I won't be able to get a job at the Gap (cry me a river), I will retort with confidence and make them feel stupid, because it is stupid that they should push me around like that. Total strangers questioning my beliefs on a daily basis and getting away with their ignorance? I don't think so.
The other part of this policy is something I've always done. When I am asked questions that are polite and curious, even intelligent, I will answer them fully and with a smile. Those are the people who will make their own way in the world just like me, without indifference and intolerance.
So now what? Caught in a bittersweet moment and feeling more than empty without my usual arsenal of stainless steel adorning my ears and face, I realize it's gonna be me, or them. And I think it will be me. I think I will have whatever piercings I want and when people are rude to me, I'll let them know exactly how I feel. Why? Because I will not allow myself to be manipulated in such a way. To all of the modded community: don't use other peoples' ignorance and rudeness as an excuse to be mean and bitter, but don't let it define you either and don't let them get you down. The day this society truly falls from grace, is the day that the unimaginative, impolite, unremarkable people walk all over everybody else. Personally, I will fight against that until the day I die-with metal in my face and pride in my heart.