Normally, when my mom says no to something that I want, I leave it at no. Normally, I know that the more I beg and plead the slimmer of a chance I have to getting what I want. But this time was not categorized under 'normally'.
At A Glance Author Stina Contact smartipantsss@hotmail.com IAM reprobated_entity When Six months ago Artist Stephanie Studio Wicked Works Location Red Deer, AB
I have always liked piercings. I have liked the way they looked, the way they felt and how the glint of metal in your body just gives you warm fuzzies. Whether it be ear piercing or unusual piercings. I love them all.
About a year prior to my own piercing I had seen two of my friends get their navels done. This took me from casually enjoying piercings to full fledged addiction. Seeing the needles, the procedure, the jewellery. The feeling of the whole atmosphere was amazing. But there was a big obstacle to my newly realized addiction. And that obstacle was my mother. My mom had never been one for piercings except for the standard lobes. I knew begging her for a body piercing was going to be unimaginably hard.
I knew I would have to be careful and organized. I started looking on BME before I brought up getting another piercing. I found a ton of ear piercings that I loved. The daith, the conch, the snug, the orbit. I loved all of them. I knew I wanted one. So I talked to my mom and asked her for it, plain and simple. And to this, I got a plain and simple reply, "No." I asked over and over again, each with a new more subtle technique. I knew my mom wouldn't just sign over her daughter's body to have foreign pieces of metal plugged into it. I knew I had to be sly.
After many attempts the perfect one came to mind. I was driving around with my mom on one ordinary day. This was my day. I came straight out. I told my mom if she let me get two piercings in my ears that I would fork over $200.00 a month in rent, do my own laundry and baby-sit my nephew and niece whenever she wanted me to. This did it. This showed her how serious I was. Not because I would do my own laundry... not because I would take on more family responsibility. But that I would part with $200.00 a month. Thankfully she never made me go through with it. But we made a deal that day.
I had picked out the piercing shop; Wicked Works. I had picked out what I wanted; a snug. So I trotted my way into the shop for my appointment. The forms were filled out and I was awaiting my piercing. I wasn't scared... I had plotted too much to start backing out. This was my prize for outstanding bartering. I was excited. My piercer was Stephanie. She is the cutest little thing in the world. Nice solid dreads, septum, one conch, stretched lobes. She was awesome. A hero in my eyes, almost.
I told Stephanie the game plan, a snug in my right ear... but sadly was denied. My snug was not pronounced enough to pierce it... she didn't want it migrating out on me. I had figured this would be the case but wanted it so badly I didn't think about another option. So in a split decision I picked the anti-tragus. I had seen piles of pictures on it.
Stephanie explained the rules, told me what the do's and don'ts were. We were ready to start. She put on her gloves, sanitized and got everything set up. Each second that ticked by, the more excited I got. The smell of the cleaning chemicals, the opening of packages, the clanking of metal. It all brought profound feelings of excitement. She gave me some lavender oil to smell to get my system calmed down, even though I wasn't nervous. She held the needle up against my anti-tragus. I felt the soft prick of the sharp tip. This was it... this was the moment I had been waiting for. I took a deep breath in... a deep breath out... a deep breath in... a deep breath out. Just when all the air was out of my lungs I felt the needle slid into my anti-tragus, puncturing the piece of cartilage in its way and through the other side. The main was minimal, which was less than I was expecting. It was nicer than when I had my cartilage done with a gun. It felt like my heart was beating right in my ear with how much blood was draining into the area. The jewellery slipped in, and the little green ball was in place. My beautiful anti-tragus was done and I was in love with it.
After the first few months of having it, it started to look like a pencil eraser was growing out of it. It was really infected even though I cared for it like my child. Eventually I cut the festering eraser and has yet to have a freak-out again. I must say, this was the hardest piercing of mine to heal. It was temperamental and picky like a child. I slept on it easily since the second day I had it... so that was a gift. If one is looking into getting this done, one should be aware that above all else this piercing needs a lot of TLC and patience. But I totally do not regret it.. and 6 months later I am still enjoying it to little tiny pieces.