On my 18th birthday, I decided to get my first tattoo. After trading my driver’s permit for a state ID at the DMV, I found myself in a quaint little tattoo parlor tucked between a Chinese restaurant and a Dunkin’ Donuts. I wish I could say I had a deep, meaningful design in mind, but truthfully, my motivation was simple: my mom didn’t want me to get one. Go figure.
I spent a few minutes browsing through flash art—those standard designs you see everywhere, like cherries and skulls—because obviously, a few minutes is enough time to make a lifelong decision. When a burly, bearded guy approached me, I was struck with a wave of anxiety. I pointed to the first design I noticed: a black cross entwined with a yellow rose. He hesitated, trying to steer me away from my choice, noting that a) I wasn’t religious at all, and b) I wanted it on the small of my back—let’s just say it’s a spot that only sees the light of day during summer.
Fast forward a few years, and I’ve become a bit of a body modification enthusiast, boasting 14 piercings and more tattoos than I can count. But despite my love for body art, I refuse to pierce my daughter’s ears. Yup, the woman with the funky hair and a penchant for outrageous piercings isn’t about to start modifying her toddler.
Before my daughter could even sit up, family members were already asking when I planned to get her ears pierced, shocked that I hadn’t done it yet. “But you have all those piercings!” they exclaimed. It seemed like a no-brainer to them—of course my daughter would follow in my footsteps. But that’s precisely why I won’t do it; her body is hers alone to modify when she’s old enough to make that choice.
While many might argue that a simple ear piercing is harmless, the truth is, they’re her ears. Piercing them when she’s too young to express her own wishes raises a significant issue: consent. All of my modifications were my decisions, even the ones I might regret. If my daughter decides she wants her ears pierced at six or eight, I’ll happily take her to a professional shop and guide her through it. But until she can articulate her own desires, I won’t impose my choices on her.
Some might counter, “But it’s just her ears!” I get it—my mom pierced my ears in the kitchen with a sewing needle, but that doesn’t mean I want to replicate that with my daughter. Piercing her ears would be purely for my own sake, not hers. Plus, I’m not about to subject her to pain that’s no worse than a bee sting for a pair of shiny studs.
So, for now, she can stick with Cheerios and her favorite characters like Elmo and Minnie Mouse for happiness.
If you’re interested in learning more about pregnancy and home insemination, check out this excellent resource from the World Health Organization.
In summary, while I embrace body modifications for myself, I firmly believe that my daughter should have the autonomy to decide how she wants to express herself when she’s older. Until then, I’ll let her enjoy being a kid.