I remember getting my first tattoo on my 18th birthday. I made a trip to the DMV to trade my learner’s permit for a state ID, then ventured to a tattoo parlor in a strip mall, sandwiched between a Chinese restaurant and a Dunkin’ Donuts. I wish I could say I had a grand design in mind, but honestly, I just wanted a tattoo because my mom was against it. Go figure.
I spent what felt like an eternity scrolling through flash designs, the kind that are pre-drawn and typically feature clichés like cherries or skulls. When a burly, bearded guy approached me to offer assistance, I froze. I pointed to the first design I saw: a black cross entwined with a yellow rose. He tried to dissuade me, citing that a) I wasn’t religious at all and b) I wanted it placed on the small of my back—an area that only sees the light of day in a bikini or when I’m wearing low-rise jeans. (But before you judge, this was years before the term “tramp stamp” came into play, so don’t worry—it’s just a regrettable lower back tattoo.)
Fast forward to today, and I’ve become something of a body modification enthusiast. I have 14 piercings and an almost endless collection of tattoos, as they blend into one another. Yet, despite my own modifications, I have absolutely no intention of piercing my daughter’s ears. That’s right; the mom with colorful hair and a penchant for body art isn’t piercing her toddler’s ears.
Before my daughter could even sit up, family members were already asking when I planned to pierce her ears. Many were shocked that I hadn’t done it yet. “But you have so many piercings and tattoos!” they exclaimed. While I could have snapped back that it was none of their business or joked about getting her an Elmo tattoo for her third birthday, I simply explained that ear piercing wasn’t on my agenda.
What might seem like a no-brainer to them is the very reason my daughter won’t get her ears pierced. She should be the one to decide what happens to her body, and that decision comes with age, maturity, and the ability to express herself—not from parental pressure.
“But it’s just her ears!” I’ve heard people argue. “When I was a kid, my mom pierced my ears with a sewing needle and thread!” While it may seem trivial, those are her ears, and they belong to her alone. Piercing them before she can choose for herself raises the issue of consent, which I take seriously. Every modification I made was my choice—some of them regrettable, yes, but they were my choices.
If my daughter expresses a desire to have her ears pierced when she’s older, say at six or eight, I will educate her on the process and happily take her to a professional piercing studio. I refuse to impose my decisions on her, nor will I modify her body for my own vanity. Piercing her ears serves no cultural or medical purpose for us, and I certainly won’t do it to spare her from a momentary sting that’s no worse than a bee bite.
While those tiny cubic zirconia studs might look adorable, they won’t bring her joy—not at her age, anyway. For now, she finds happiness in her Cheerios and her beloved Mickey Mouse, not in earrings.
If you’re interested in exploring more about parenting choices, check out this insightful blog post that dives into similar topics. And for those considering home insemination options, Make a Mom offers quality at-home insemination syringe kits. Additionally, a resource like WebMD can provide valuable guidance on pregnancy and home insemination.
In summary, while I have embraced body art and modifications for myself, I firmly believe in allowing my daughter to make her own choices regarding her body when she’s ready. It’s essential to respect her autonomy, and I look forward to supporting her when she reaches that decision in her own time.
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