A piercing tale - 2

Happy Sweet Sixteen Sam!  Lets go get you pierced!

Back when I was sixteen, belly button piercings were the "in thing."

Everybody had one.  Now I am not one to follow trends but my sister had talked me into it.  She had it done and with reassurances of how it doesn't even hurt and how I can get pretty belly button rings, and not to mention be super cool.  I caved.

As I was only 16, I needed my Mums permission.  She was not onboard at all.  However she did the standard "ask your father" thinking that my Dad would be completely against a piece of steel going through the belly button of his little girl.  

However that plan didn't work out so well for her when my Dad was all for it.

So with my Mum reluctantly onboard, she agreed to come with me and my sister.  It was a week until my birthday so my Mum decided that she was going to try and get her friend who had her belly pierced to tell me her horror story of the jewellery being rejected by her body.

I wasn't giving up.  I had it in my head that I had to be the cool little sister and if I backed out after agreeing to get it done, I would be the lamest person in the world.

Mum then went with a different tactic.  "What about those boots you had your eye on.  I will buy you the boots if you don't do this."

I did love the boots but my reputation was at risk so I turned that sweet sweet offer down.

The afternoon of my birthday, My Mum, my sister and I all set off in the car to the piercing parlour.  As I mentioned before, I am terrified of needles, so I was seriously starting to freak out.  My Mum had hope that I would back out.

I picked out a pretty purple belly bar, learned about care and cleaning, and signed my fate.

My Mum refused to come in the room with me so my sister joined me to hold my hand (but really she just laughed at me.)

I was marked up.

Was told to lie down.

The clamp was put on.

I had to put my hands under my body so I wouldn't move.

And then I broke out in a stress rash.

It covered my chest, my arms, and was slowly making its way up to my face.  The lady noticed and tried to calm me down, but i told her that the only way I would calm down would be if she just did it.

The next thing I remember is my mother yelling from the waiting room.

"Sam think about it.  You can still get the boots."

I replied.

"Oh no I can't anymore."

It was done!

It didn't get infected and I was the only person in my group of friends to get it done.

It was the perfect thing.

Fast forward 7 years later and it finally got infected.  And not a little bit.  It wasn't pretty.  I ended up having to take it out and because it wasn't the "in" thing anymore, I left it out.

I now have an ugly scar on my belly button due to the infection, the regret that I didn't show off my piercing enough when I actually had it and boot envy because I never did get those boots.

First world problems

Aussie Out

xo