At A Glance
Author	anonymous
Contact	anonymous@bme.anon
When	It just happened
Artist	Kim
Studio	Straight to the Point
Location	Portland, OR

I was dumped a week ago today. We weren't together long, but... long enough. Well, okay, it happens, so what? I'm living with him, see. We agreed to be roommates in the spring and hooked up over the summer before we moved in together, despite what our common sense told us. You know how it goes. A week ago--it was 2 in the morning, and he launched into the break-up speech after I said a disappointed goodnight when he told me I should go to bed alone. We spent the next two hours talking--or I cried, he talked. Not about 'us'--about me. I would contribute things from time to time that fed into what quickly became his psychoanalysis of me. Things about my propensity towards serial monogamy, my self-esteem 'issues', how 'adults don't cry', et cetera et cetera. And I cried and nodded.

A lot of what he said was condescending bullshit that made him seem tall and wise and me small and immature. How silly of me to let it ruin a night of my life! Some thought and some friends helped me filter out the valuable things I could conclude from the way our relationship ended--I need to get to know MYSELF, for example--from the stuff that wasn't worth listening to.

Because I know this: he doesn't deserve me.
What I need to learn is this: I DO deserve me.

My mods have value to me beyond their aesthetics, just as yours, reader, probably do to you. The kind of thing that sounds silly to explain to anyone else but for me usually involves words like 'courage', 'badass', 'patience.' Anyway, the fates converged a few days after the break-up when a friend of mine showed me her new helix piercing and I happened across an experience on BME that explained the origins of the daith piercing. The BME encyclopedia entry for 'daith' explains two things about it:

1. the word 'daith' comes from 'da'at', traditionally meaning wisdom or understanding.

2. (to quote from the entry) 'rings left in an orifice of the body act as a "Guardian of the Gate". They can be magically charged at the moment of the pierce to act as a "filter" to what goes into and out from that orifice.'

How perfect! While I wouldn't expect my piercing to do all my work for me, it would be a perfect reminder that I don't have to listen to everything I hear--I can find my OWN wisdom.

Besides, it's a beautiful piercing, and a new hole in my ear would be a great way to earn myself some hardcore points and boost my self-respect a bit.

So I asked my friend with the new helix piercing if she'd like to go back with me the next evening after we finished classes for the day so I could get a daith piercing. She said she gladly would and a day later we drove downtown to Straight to the Point. I told Kim, who I'd never been pierced by, what I wanted and she warned me that it would not be an easy piercing--it would be slow, a challenge for both of us. To overcome a personal challenge was, of course, exactly what I needed, and I told her that yes, it was what I wanted. While I filled out paperwork, she pierced someone's nape, and then it was my turn.

The needle Kim used had to be bent to fit in my ear and be able to get out again. She would have to hold it using a clamp, she explained. She cleaned my ear, all that jazz, and then it was breathe in, breathe out, pierce. And pierce. And pierce. Honestly I don't know how long it took the needle to get through my skin and cartilage, because once I was pierced the needle had to be pushed all the way through. Every bend in that needle was agony. I swore and whimpered and squeezed my friend's hand hard, but I didn't flinch.

Then jewelry insertion, making sure the bead was good and tight, cleaning up the bit of blood, all that. Despite my throbbing ear, I was radiating hardcore. I felt GOOD. I'd done it. Kim and my friend told me it looked AWESOME and when Kim handed me a mirror I agreed. I grinned as much as I could manage (funny how muscles in your face cause finicky bits of skin in your ear to tug on your new piercing just so...) and Kim took a picture for her portfolio.

When I went home to my ex-boyfriend/apartment-mate that evening I found dealing with him and being around him so much easier. The ring in my right ear buoyed me, reminded me of my own self-worth. I could--and did--and continue to--call him on his bullshit. I can trust my own judgment. I can see myself, in his presence, or anyone's, as a being not requiring contextualization by a man.

It's only been a few days and aftercare has been uneventful so far, just the usual salt soaks, et cetera. The initial pain faded before a few hours were up, and it's in a protected-enough place (I protect it, it protects me... symbiotic relationships with mods are where it's at!) that I woke up this morning sleeping on my right side and didn't have any of the soreness I expected to. We'll see how it goes. I can grin all I want now.

And all cheesiness about anti-bullshit filters and courage and self-respect aside, it looks really damn cute.