Some of you know me, have known me, for a long time. In a brief summary, I had a horrible breakdown in 2008, lost most of what I had identified myself as being, except for my child, and really just sort of sucked for a long time. Therapy came into the picture - and quite literally saved my life. Had Nancy not had confidence in me, and encouraged me to face things straight on, I would definitely not still be on this earth.
One of the things that happened long before the breakdown in 2008 was a fascination with getting my nose pierced. I didn't do it, because I was on staff at a church, and on the platform every morning, and I knew it wouldn't fly. I kept talking to those close to me about it, but kept being encouraged to just let it go. In the fall of 2009 I really started thinking about it again. I even talked to my therapist, Nancy, about it. I wasn't insane, I wasn't searching for anything to prove, I wasn't rebelling; it was something that I had wanted for a long time - a way to express who I was deep down inside. It wasn't going to hurt anyone - it's not permanent, I could take it out at any time. (I had debated a little bit about the tattoo thing, but honestly? I'm a HUGE sissy. One poke with a needle or hours with a needle? Easy decision - and again, I loved the nose ring thing.) In therapy, I was just getting to the point of learning how to say "I want" something. Even simple things like "I want to eat this for breakfast" and "I want to listen to this song now" - those little steps were HUGE steps for me. So when I broached the subject with Nancy, she encouraged me to search for a reputable place and go for it.
September 8th, I made an appointment to go get my nose pierced. I knew the wife of the man who owned the parlor; she was wonderful, and so was he, when I finally got there. I got lost (if you know me at all, you know that this is nothing surprising), and I had a slight manic panic phase on the way there, but I got there, and went to sit in the chair that is deceptivly like a dentist's chair. I also had my ear cuff repierced while I was there, and he did that first. It hurt like a booger, but I knew it would. I was talking to his wife, who was standing in the room with us, when he pierced my nose, and I can honestly say, I did not feel a thing. I walked out of there so proud of myself, and so thrilled with my nose piercing (even if it was a little red the first few days).
I know that it's just a piece of jewelry. And I get that it's a little controversial, especially in conservative circles. However, I didn't do it to get attention or to be controversial; it's a teeny tiny diamond stud. A lot of people know me, see me, and don't even realize I have it pierced. But for me, it was a huge step in doing something that I had WANTED to do for so long, but the only reason for not doing it was not rocking the boat. Turns out that when I finally did it, the boat didn't rock that much anyway. It's a decision I have never once regretted.
I have an 8.5 year old daughter. She is so bright, like scary smart at times. She's funny, and beautiful, and talented. I think she's fabulous. Recently, however, she's been having a craptastic time. A lot of this has been brought on by her own decisions. She's been disrespectful, distracted, and sort of a know-it-all. It came to a big head this week, when teacher and mom contacted each other and conferred and realized that the same things were going on both places. After several long talks with my kid, the realization struck me that she does not feel smart. Or funny. She feels ugly. And stupid. And like she is the least liked person in the world. She's insecure and panicky and she's lashing out in frustration and anger because she is afraid. Some of that lays on my head. Some of that lays in her past. Some of it lays on her own decision making. But all of it - ALL of it - I could relate to.
Back when Melanie was 5 years old, she started asking if she could have a few pink stripes in her hair. When she was 5, I kept saying no because of the proverbial boat. I didn't want to rock it, and I didn't want to hear the crap about it. I shut her out and down about it. She kept asking, though. Not in a nagging way - but just occasionally in a, "wow, someday I'd really like to have some pink stripes in my hair" kind of way. Eventually we got to the place where I was feeling more bold (I had my nose pierced) and I said we could do it. Due to circumstances I'd rather not get into, we were sort of shut down again. We've had that hair dye sitting in the closet for a long time now.
Well yesterday, she and I were talking (after the whole big mess with the school and everything went down) and we were both really kind if spilling it out there. She told me how afraid she was at school - not like physically afraid, but just that she wouldn't be good enough, and that she felt this pressure to be like everyone else - to do things just the way everyone else does, and to be 'the good reader' because that's what she's been labeled as, and to panic when she didn't get it right the first time, because she didn't want the attention on her. We talked about some ways to do better with things like that, i.e., listen to the instructions all the way through before she started on her work, and asking the teacher a question, even if it's in private, if she needs help. To take her time to double check her work before she turns it in. To not boast or brag or make fun of others who are struggling (the same way that she struggles). It was a good talk.
Then she says to me, "I wish I could have the pink stripe in my hair, mom. Not because I want people to look at it or not look at it or anything like that, but just because *I* will know it's there. Even if it's not bright pink, or if it washes out in a few weeks, I will know I had the pink stripe. That pink stripe will be a brave stripe for me."
I have a nosering that's brave for me. It's a symbolic thing of a huge step in my life.
It's just freakin' hair. It will grow out and wash out and be back to how it was 3 hours ago in a matter of weeks, or we'll do it again if she wants.
She sat thru the entire process. She looks grown up. She was OVERJOYED at the pink stripes. Like - tears of joy. She didn't say "I can't wait to show the kids at school!" or "I hope grandma and grandpa like it" or "I wonder what ______ will say?" (Boy's name omitted to protect the innocent). She said "I have my brave stripe!! I LOVE this!!"
This is going to be another one of those days that I do not regret it one bit. I might even go polish up my nosering a little bit.
(Pictures upcoming when we get better light.)
