The story so far....I first realised that I was into Body Modification when I was twelve. However I'd been into the same thing for years beforehand although then it was nameless, and there was only me in the world that was into it. Having said that I've still never met anyone else who's barbies used to regularly engage in bondage (although it was all very innocently done), had dyed pink hair (by the wonderful art of the felt tip pen) and many different facial piercings that were made by drawing pins.
Even before that I can remember being walked past freaks in the streets when we'd go to London or Cambridge for a day out. I couldn't help but stare at the amazing hair styles and piercings that they all had, and from a very, very young age when others in my class at school were saying 'when I grow up I want to be an astronaut', I was the only one saying 'I want to be a freak'. Then over ten years ago I had a huge crush on Robert Smith from the Cure never being able to understand later why more men didn't wear make-up. At this stage I was about six years old. I'm certain that I was born a freak.
It was only when I started Senior School at twelve that I properly realised that there were others of the same age that felt like me. We wanted to be individuals (but in a group?) which basically stemmed from not seeing the point in wearing what others wanted you to wear, especially if it didn't suit you in the slightest. We got hassled the entire time for not spending �80 on a pair of trainers that went out of fashion in two weeks time but we just couldn't see the point. We didn't even like trainers! We got the piss taken out of us for liking the type of music we liked, for liking the type of jewellery, hair, men, clothes, clubs - there wasn't anything that we could do right. And no, we didn't enjoy the attention that we got from our school associates. Infact we hated the endless torments, the name-calling and being followed home from school, but there was just no way that we could have changed ourselves purely for them. Much as they seemed to want to force us into it by insulting everything that we said and did, it just made us realise more and more that we had to be stronger then them and to do our own thing rather then what they wanted. We did it more because we had to. The way of life was ours and not something that we could easily change, even though our lives would have been considerably easier had we just gone and brought the 'right' trainers and hung around with the 'right' people.
My family always seemed on the whole supportive and I stopped getting girly presents at birthdays and Christmas' from about the age of about eight. However arguments with my sister, who's five and a half years older then me, at that time used to drive me to tears of fury when she repeatedly said that it was 'just a phase' and that I'd 'grow out of it', because I had no way of proving to her at the time that I felt right and that I loved everything about my metally existence. All my friends were Metallers, all the music that I loved fitted into that category, and all the men that I'd started to lust after were long haired types with leather trousers. I couldn't ever imagine changing so completely and becoming 'acceptable' or 'normal'. I didn't feel 'normal' so it would be a lot more to me then just listening to different music, or wearing different clothes. I would have needed a brain transplant.
When school ended and I started college I was amazed with the live and let live attitude that I faced. In my head I'd already set myself up for yet again having to fight my way through living my life the way that I wanted it. There was obviously no set uniform so everyone saw me in my metally gear and no one was bothered. More then anything else I was complemented for 'doing my own thing'.
That was all fine and good but I still didn't feel like I'd found the real me. I'd got plenty of metally friends out of college, was getting on o.k at college and had a boyfriend that I got on with well, but there was still something missing. I just had to fathom out what it was. I felt as though I was getting somewhere but that I wasn't quite at my destination.
It came to me over time, the gradual realisation that I wasn't showing my true self enough. I felt a lot freakier inside then I showed to the world in my physical appearance, even with pink hair and braids. I felt a need to show the world what my internal picture of myself was. The proper turning point was when I had an argument with my then boyfriend after I'd spent ages getting ready in a leather skirt and leopard print shirt, plus 14 hole DMs. His problem was that he didn't like what I'd decided to wear so wanted me to change. When I refused, he walked out. It then came to me in a flash of anger - I was me and had to do whatever the hell I needed to do to be happy. I wasn't prepared to tone down my act, or to be unhappy for anyone else. Whatever it was that I needed to do, I had to get on and do.
One of the first things I did was to dump the boyfriend, much to the amazement of everyone else I knew. Much as I liked him I knew that he was holding me back and stopping me from doing what I wanted. Looking at it later on I realised exactly how many times he'd attempted to change my point of view to his, and how he'd attempted to govern who I saw, what I wore and what I liked. Well not any more.
I started to go out with my friends a lot more then I'd done when I was with him. During doing that I made more friends. I changed over a year or so what I wore. I was able to express my inner self much more so I became a lot more of a punk and was able to dye my hair more frequently, and wear clothes that I wanted to wear. The make up became a lot more violent and pronounced and I practised techniques until I looked the best that I could. Then came the piercings.
I'd already got the customary one hole in each ear from when I was twelve. I'd always loved them but had never realised exactly how much I liked them. By this time I was more of a gothic punk - even more makeup and hair accessories. By the age of nineteen (on my birthday to be exact) I'd got a new hole in the cartilage of my left ear. A few months later I'd finished college and started my first job discovering for the first time that it was possible to afford to buy the stuff that I wanted. I realised that all I seemed to want clothes wise were garments made of PVC, or rubber, plus jewellery with chains and big pendants. I discovered collars and was never quite the same again. Then I purchased electric blue hair extensions and had grown my hair down to my bum. Still something was missing.
Then one day (around the time that I started work) I discovered the Internet that was free to play with during lunch times. I was hooked gleaning more and more information on all the topics I'd wanted to know about. Quite accidentally I came across BME on a random piercing search and that was it. I'd finally found the rush of excitement that I'd been looking for all of those years - not only had I found piercings (people sticking pieces of cold metal through their skin. The same thing I'd tried not to stare at in the street. The very thing I'd needed so desperately to know about), and pictures of piercings I hadn't even realised existed apart from in my dreams, but I'd also found other people's reasons why they needed to do it, and found that they were much the same as my reasons - because they had to. Because this desperate aching need was there and needed to be filled. At last I properly felt as though I belonged somewhere. These people thought the same way as me, liked the same things as me, and faced the same every day hassles that anyone 'different' has to face. But not only that, they were doing it for the same reasons as me, they would understand that piercing or looking unlike the norm wasn't just to get attention, to piss parents off, or as a rebellion against life. They would understand that it went a hell of a lot deeper then that.
With this new found confidence in myself, and after gaining �25 from a premium bond that was left as a present from a relative who had since died, I went straight out (after researching on BME of course 8-) and got my right Tragus pierced. And there it was - my very own metal memorial to her.
The piercing itself had even been more fun then I'd expected. While waiting outside my local tattoo and piercing studio, Flesh Ideas in Stevenage (not too far from London), I'd practically gone off the idea because of nerves but my friend Chris practically dragged me inside. When I met the piercer, Rich, I was surprised that although he'd got many piercings and tattoos himself, he genuinely didn't look at me as though I was a mere virgin of the piercing world. He explained what he was going to do and kept up regular checks all the way though on how I was. Of course it was only after the new ball closure ring was firmly in place that he mentioned that it was one of the most painful things he'd had done himself. Considering I was suffering (?) from the biggest head rush of all time at that precise moment, it was nice to know that it wasn't just me! He then let me stay for as long as I wanted until the affects had calmed down again and I was able to walk slightly more steadily down the street, albeit clinging onto Chris.
As soon as I got home I was longing to take off the covering and have a look at my beautiful new piercing. I really gently washed it and was surprised by the lack of blood. I loved caring for it every day and giving it regular salt-water soaks. I felt like I'd finally discovered more what I was about.
Of course the satisfied feeling didn't last too long. In the same way that a chocoholic must feel when they need chocolate, that old familiar need was soon back. One Sunday I'd had enough and pierced my own ears (one piercing on each) with the aid of salt water, ice cubes and a sterilised needle.
Over a period of a few months I added eight holes in my ear lobes myself by this method, leaving time for the previous ones to heel before I did the next. This still wasn't enough, and by this time I'd read even more and realised that I wasn't being nearly careful enough while piercing my own body, so decided the rest of it would have to be left to the professionals.
Back to BME I went (although I'd scarcely been off it in the meantime) to find a new piercing that I could get to surfice the craving. I also attended the first of 1998's Dunstable Tattoo Expos, tattoos being another of the things I'd become hooked on - imagine being able to design pictures on your own body. How much more of a commitment could you make to yourself? And how much more individual could you be then by having your very own custom pieces tattooed on you for the rest of your life.
Then it was back to Flesh Ideas to get my left Helix done, again by Rich. Surprisingly it didn't really hurt, certainly a lot less then the tragus. It did bleed a lot though.
I then felt uneven so a few weeks later back I went to get my right Helix pierced, which was bloody painful. This time the same mate, Chris got one of his nipples pierced and I took great delight in finally being able to see the whole operation myself (instead of trying to watch as needles disappeared out of view into the side of my head).
After that I found myself at 1998's second (and final) tattoo expo at Dunstable, talking to like minded people, and getting yet more knowledge and inspiration.
Present day...
I have to admit to being a lot calmer now then I was in my quest for the ideal me. Calmer in the sense that I'm not nearly as worried or consumed in what I have to look like because I look a lot more now like my internal picture (although there's still a long way to go before I'm done). I've finally (if not temporarily) settled into a happy stage.
I work maybe surprisingly in an office. It's not what I want to be doing years from now, but it does give me more freedom (and money!) then working in a shop or factory would. I've remained on fourteen piercings for the last couple of months, more because of money and to give my body a rest then because I've stopped getting pierced. However all fourteen of these piercings stay in when I'm at work, and I've had few comments. I, unfortunately have to dress relatively smartly (certainly no 20 hold DMs) when I'm in the office, so I treat it as a uniform or as though I'm an actress playing the part. I certainly don't hide who I am to my work colleagues, and most of them have seen photos of me from various gigs in my fetish gothic punk finery. It also suits me at the moment as I get the chance to surf the net every lunchtime. Obviously if I worked in a hotel or factory then I wouldn't get that privilege.
Lifestyle wise I now have the money to do a lot more of what I want. My entire wardrobe consists of lace, leather and PVC now, and my CD collection and list of gigs that I've been to have grown rapidly. At the moment I'm saving towards a holiday - Whitby Gothic weekend so I'll get to spend a very long weekend completely being me.
The Future....
When I've saved more money I'd like to leave work and take a year out writing books for like-minded people. I'd ideally like to get a book published about so called freaks explaining exactly what we are all about as I loathe and despise all of the automatic bad press that anyone 'different' gets - especially if it's for something as basic as a need to listen to a certain type of music, or get piercings or tattoos. If I thought that my book had managed to convince one person in the world to view us positively rather then automatically viewing us negatively, then I'd really feel like I'd achieved something in life.
Piercing wise there are many more to come, some which will be forced to wait until I'm in a different working situation. I haven't finished with my ears - two conches will be added to both ears as well as an Industrial and maybe a rook. I want my tongue pierced, plus a 'Madonna', both nipples, my navel done three times (when it's a bit less trendy), both inner Labias and my clit hood. A simple cutting or possibly branding would have to follow, probably of a dream catcher or a similar design.
I'm also about to join the realm of the tattooed. My first will probably be quite simple - a deep red rose over a tribal design near my navel is one I've been working on, then working up to two sleeves and a full back piece of gothic fine line work - vampires, gargoyles, cherubs and angels, that sort of thing.
I'll also, of course keep buying all of the clothing and the hair decorations, and will write (probably shorter 8-) pieces for each of my bod mods when I get them done. For now though, thanks for reading and if you are also a self confessed freak then 'well done, keep at it', if not then 'give us credit. It's not easy being different y'know!'
Any questions then please mail me on the following
Cheers
Claw
[email protected]