Getting my nose pierced was rather a big decision for me. As a child I had been adverse to anything that would cause me pain, and had viewed facial piercing in the same way as my mother – deplorable and definitely not for me.
At A Glance Author Roulette Contact squeeblegirl@gmail.com When N/A Artist Not Sure Studio Ground Control Location Edinburgh, Scotland It was once I'd completed my first year at University that I started to gain an interest in piercing. When I was seventeen I'd gained quite an interest in alternative lifestyles, and had turned to dressing and listening to Goth, much to my parents dismay.
I used to frequent a self-harm recovery website, which my younger brothers friend (who was only fifteen) was on as well. I was planning to go to their Edinburgh meet, as a new member, and meet the people I was talking to online in a safe and friendly environment (note: I don't actually recommend meeting up with anyone you meet online, and if you insist on it anyway, do it somewhere crowded – in this case, the centre of Edinburgh on a Saturday afternoon – where you can easily cry for help). The topic was brought up of a group of us going to the nearby piercers, with my brother's friend stating he wanted his nose pierced.
He also asked me to go along with him, for support.
Curiously, I started to look around the Internet (including BME) for information on nose piercing. It turned out – to my surprise – to be something I rather fancied doing myself.
It also coincided with a little tradition I'd started the last year – my parents had gone on holiday, leaving me in Scotland by myself. I'd had friends over and, having talked for years about dying my (blonde) hair but never got around to it, thanks to my mothers disapproval of the idea, they'd persuaded me to dye it red. It had stayed red since. My parents would actually be on holiday the week I was going to the meet – how would they react to me having my nose pierced?
The day came. I met up with my little brothers friend in town before catching the train to Edinburgh, on which we met up with another forumer. At the station we met a whole group of other people – I chose this time to be shy, when in actuality I'm not a shy person at all – and headed to the gardens near Waverly.
When it came to going to the piercers, it was my brother's friend, two other girls – a blonde haired Glaswegian, older than me with her nose already pierced, and a dark-haired, alternative-style girl slightly younger than me, with rather a lot of piercings. Since my brother's friend was having the exact same piercing I was still hovering on the edge of getting, I decided I'd at least watch him having his done.
When we got there we discovered that there were no nose studs left – if I wanted pierced, I'd have to have a ring, when I knew my mother would agree more with a stud. This made me waver even more towards not having it done. It didn't affect my brother's friend though – he'd originally wanted a ring, anyway.
The piercer was rather jokey and friendly, had a lot of facial piercings, a few tattoos and was rather interested in one of the girls – the blonde haired Glaswegian – breasts. He kept referring to her (rather ample) cleavage in his jokes. He didn't mind all four of us piling into the room, sitting on a little bench across from his workspace, watching as each one of us systematically got pierced.
My brother' friend got his nose done first – I watched as he pushed the needle through his nose, refraining from using clamps, then readied the little ring which he then, quickly, replaced the needle with.
I hovered, unsure, still. I did really want my nose pierced – it was more how my mother would react that worried me.
The entire process was rather scary. For a while, you were left with a big needle sticking out your nose, right in front of your eyes. Clinging tightly to the alternative girls hand and screwing my eyes shut, I didn't dare to look. But it wasn't soon before the entire process was over, and I was sitting laughing, tears running down my cheeks, a mixture of endorphin rush and complete and utter relief, for what must have been a good five minutes.
Afterwards there was a dull throb in my nose as I walked along, back to the meet with the rest. The ring, just in the edge of my vision, amused me – I kept peering down at my nose at the (apparently) fuzzy hoop.
The only complaint I have is he never actually gave me any aftercare advice. He had given me forms to sign saying I had no heart conditions, etc, but I had to quiz my fellow forumers on how to take care of my new piercing – it was actually rather lucky I could do this. Other than that, the experience was thoroughly enjoyable.
The best thing is: it's helped me jolt myself out of self-harm. Before I got my nose pierced, I was harming every day. I have an enormous amount of scarring. But right now I'm fourteen weeks free and counting.
For my sixteenth week free (four months) – the longest I will have gone since I started three years ago – I'm planning on getting a vertical labret. For my year free, which I hope to make on my twentieth birthday (August next year), I plan to get an industrial. I'm regaining control through piercings – before I hit my twenties. They're giving me the ability to make it into my second decade of life without self-harm. It's awesome.