On BME, the vast majority of articles submitted are pro-modification (not to say that this one isn't...not exactly, anyhow). Not so often do you come across a piece illustrating the downsides of noticeably altering your physical appearances, and the subsequent defeats that sometimes follow.
At A Glance Author louise Contact [email protected] When N/A I suppose that upon reading this, some individuals will be prompted to label me a whiny poseur who doesn't know what she's talking about or what I was getting into when I made the decision to take control of my own body. I am perfectly aware of the fact that permanent mods should be viewed as a lifetime commitment, and that reversing them should be a carefully considered decision. However, there comes a point when even the most staunchly dedicated person throws up their hands in frustration at the ignorance displayed by most of 'modern' society.
I have had my earlobes stretched for going on 3 years now. For the past year, they have remained at 1-1/3 inches. And for the most part, I've loved having them. I don't know what it is about such distension, but I find unusual beauty and satisfaction in the idea of stretched earlobes. But therein the problem lies, at least partially.
When I finally decided to commence stretching my lobes 3 years ago, I hadn't considered all aspects of possessing such a modification. And really, there are some aspects which can't be predicted or understood without actually having them. Still, I had a somewhat idealistic view of things. I didn't think that stretching my lobes would have too significant of an impact on my employment status at any given time, though I did expect that my chances of being hired at certain more reserved establishments would be lessened. I had underestimated the stigmatization I would undergo at the hands of strangers, acquaintances, family, friends, etc.
I didn't expect the absolutely incessant questioning I was to receive from people that I didn't even know; individuals who would just walk up to me in public and start pushing their views of modification onto me, regardless of the setting. Apparently, the fact that I am voluntarily modified means I must have signed a contract at the piercing parlor that stated that I would be subject to random interrogation by the public regarding my personal choices. I mean, sincere requests would not and do not bother me; but insensitive, inappropriate ones do. "Oh honey, why would you do that to such a pretty face?" "Good lord, you must enjoy pain!" "One day you'll get over this crazy stage of yours, but you'll have your permanent mistakes to remind you."
I didn't think that people wouldn't notice at all, but I think that I thought subconsciously that people would eventually get used to it, that the questioning would taper off; but it's been three years, and lobe-stretching still hasn't gotten as mainstream as I'd expected. I still encounter the same number of people every single day, every time I leave my house, and it's tiring. It's gotten to the point where I'm hesitant to go out in public because I've become aware of the way people stare when someone's different, and of the whispering they do to each other when they think you're not looking. I used to think of that as just another clich�, but it hits a more resounding note after actually experiencing it.
The commentary that goes on behind my back is what really bothers me. Upon meeting me, my new boyfriend's stepdad commented to his stepdaughter that he didn't understand "Why anyone would want to date someone with those big 'things' in their ears". In another instance, I was talking with a girl I know who owns a lingerie shop which I frequent, and she told me that once a customer had passed me as I was leaving and commented to her that "That girl must have had an awful childhood!"
I remember once going on a family trip to my aunt's house, and retiring early (to a couch in the living room adjoining the dining room) while the rest of the family conversed and caught up around the dinner table. Apparently they were under the impression that I had fallen asleep, because the conversation eventually turned toward the subject of myself. Once I noticed that I was being talked about, I turned over so as to more clearly catch the direction of the conversation (okay, so I was eavesdropping; but really, could you blame me?). I soon realized that the words had taken a negative turn. All the people who had always been pleasant and respectful of me to my face now were sitting around the table, dissecting my supposed psyche, discounting all of my opinions and beliefs, insulting my personal choices, and wondering out loud when I was going to get over this crazy 'stage' of mine. And all within earshot! Relatives consoled my mother with the fact that my cousin had gone through a similar 'punk' stage (yeah, that's really what they called it), and that she had turned out just fine; a conservative, pretty little airline stewardess living with her grandma, with a nice boyfriend and everything (not to insult my cousin in any way; she's a lovely girl).
I couldn't look anyone in my family in the eye after that. Knowing that they were all lying to me, patronizing me every time I spoke to them...it eventually let to resentment and alienation from a lot of my extended family members. Being told that they were proud of me for sticking to my beliefs, not being afraid to be an individual...then being bashed behind my back. All because of a few extra holes and a funny hair color or two.
One of the worst stigmas I encounter is one backed by a large percentage of doctors and psychoanalysts; that the pierced or tattooed body is that of a mentally disturbed person. I find it VERY disturbing that this idea is being perpetuated by today's medical profession. I recently read a book my boyfriend picked up at goodwill authored by Adam Carolla and Dr. Drew Pinsky, co-hosts of the once-popular MTV callshow, Loveline ("The Dr. Drew and Adam Book: A Survival Guide To Life and Love" Drew Pinsky, Marshall Fine, Adam Carolla. Dell Publishing Co., 1998). In it, Dr. Pinsky states that a person who has modifications of any kind (especially genital) has almost certainly been physically, sexually, or mentally abused. He goes on to elaborate, in one instance stating that a woman with a tongue piercing is using her modification to symbolize the fact that she is sexually active, most likely promiscuous (and I'm paraphrasing here, I don't have a copy of the book and I can't rec all the exact words, though these are a pretty accurate representation).
Another problem I deal with; employment. I'm sure you all know the drill, but it's pretty infuriating to be called to an interview with a manager that's all excited to see you because you're SO qualified for the position, that you're an absolute shoe-in for the job. Then, when they get to experience your physical appearance: a clean shirt, pressed pants, nicely styled hair perhaps, but oh, what's that? Non-traditional piercings? Oh lord, code red; what was I thinking? And how am I going to backtrack fast enough to get this psycho out of my office?
Rejection like this is disheartening, to say the least. Especially when you encounter it constantly, on so many levels. Family, friends, potential employers, strangers, the clerk at the grocery store, your family doctor, your schoolmates, potential roommates, the people you work with. The giggles, the whispering, the ignorance, the distaste...
It's too much for me to put up with. I'm not saying that I'm going to put a gun to my head, though that is what happens to many people who undergo such treatment in response to their lifestyle. No, my choices are ones that are easily changeable. That's why a few days ago, I threw up my hands in disgust, and removed my earplugs. They're shrunk fast enough to now be at less than 1" in diameter. And I feel relieved. No more thoughtless questions, no more assumptions, no more stigmas; at least not on such a huge scale. Maybe I can even get a job! I don't care how much time I've dedicated to this modification; my personal comfort and ability to function is more important.
Though, I have to say...I really wish it didn't need to be like this. I wish that people could see past the petty, superficial differences and just treat everyone equally. But as I'm sure your elders have told you, that's overly idealistic. After all, they *are* just petty superficial differences; perhaps I shouldn't worry so much. But I can't help but hope that someday things will be different, and that I will be able to make any choices with my body (and every other aspect of my life) that I wish, without being judged, scoffed, or ostracized. The major anti-discriminatory argumanet up till now has been that those peoples who are objects of said discrimination did not choose to be so; therefore, treating them differently is unfair.
But what is there to say of the people who DO choose to be different? Are we not as equally deserving of civilized treatment, of common decency? We'll see.
Here's to hoping.