My mother’s ears aren’t pierced. Neither are my aunt’s, nor my grandmothers’. I don’t know if all the women in my family planned this, or if there’s a legacy behind it, or if it’s just a random coincidence, but it seems like a significant trend.
My ears are still not pierced either. Which wasn’t a dilemma for the last 21 years of my life, but now I’ve been thinking more and more about getting it done. Why am I so reluctant?
I’ve always associated pierced ears with mainstream society, and I. Do. Not. Like. Mainstream. The idea of being lost in a herd unsettle me. And yes, you may argue that I am lost in the herd of unpierced ears, but I may argue that it’s really not that big a herd. In my rotation of 70 students, there are maybe 10 people without pierced ears and most of them are for religious reasons. I am probably the only person I know who refuses to pierce my ears out of sheer stubbornness (and I am proud of it).
(Side note: I’ve always toyed with the idea of a helical piercing without piercing my lobes, because who does that? NO ONE).
I feel like my unpierced ears are a part of me, like my name, that I’ve only just started to appreciate. Do I want to give that up for the sake of accessorizing? Yes? No? HELP. They’re a part of my identity, but not a huge part. And it’s entirely possible to retain my individuality with pierced ears – hello, TARDIS earrings.
And since writing the opening line of this post, I’ve realized that I will stand out among the women in my family as the only one with pierced ears. Does it matter?
. . .
Dear mainstream, I may be joining you.