Like any normal human being, life was full of rites of passage. I've blogged about some of them. Shaving for the first time, going to Catholic school, learning to drive, and playing with the neighborhood kids. I spent a lot of time at the beach, and wait on pins and needles for the skin cancer to appear. Remember the old billboards for Coppertone? "Tan don't burn" for me was actually "burn baby burn" no matter what I did or didn't use. Everyone knew that Noxema was the only thing that cooled the burn. But I digress.....
It's interesting, now looking back, how those rites of passage play a part in life even now. Beyond the skin cancer and wrinkles, that is. We make decisions that will become a part of us for as long as we live. For example, I've always thought it was supremely unfair to expect a 17 or 18 year old kid, fresh out of high school, to decide what they will do for the rest of their lives and declare a college major. "Changing your major" should actually be a declared major option! I made a decision when I turned 18 that I think about every single morning. I had no idea how it would stick with me.
I honestly can't tell you why I felt I had to make such a momentous decision upon turning 18, but it was huge for me. I wasn't one to give things a lot of thought, and have always pretty much lived in the moment. But one day, I felt as if the heavens opened, and 3 options were presented that I must choose between. "It" had to be one of the following things:
1. Pierce my nose
2. Pierce my ears a second time
3. Get a butterfly tattoo on my butt
None of those things were especially popular at the time. And while I was a relatively free thinker, I wasn't necessarily a radical. I never even questioned why it was so important to make this decision; all I know is that it WAS. So, in a way that went totally against my impulsive manner, I actually gave it some very serious thought. And I didn't discuss it with anyone. Probably because I knew at my very core that whomever I might mention it to would think I was mentally ill because I considered it so stinking important!
I was deep in thought about this momentous decision when I met a young woman who had pierced her nose. I. Was. Amazed. I never thought I would EVER run into anyone outside of India that actually had their nose pierced!! We talked about the process and, of course, how much it hurt. But what really stuck with me was the fact that her piercing had healed completely, and that particular day she wasn't wearing a stud. I. Was so. DISTRACTED!! That piercing looked like the biggest blackhead I had EVER seen!! And, of course, the nose blowing thing. It's a hole, right? And I barely heard what she said because I was trying to figure out what happened when she blew her nose. Hey, I was 18....
One down. No pierced nose for me. 2 choices left. What would it be and how could I possibly decide?!
At this point, I should tell you that I never had any grand career aspirations. All I ever wanted was to marry a great guy and have a great family. I wasn't interested in breaking the glass ceiling or making a mark. I knew who Gloria Steinem was, and why bras were burning, but quite frankly, I just didn't care. I wanted to be a full time mom to a posse of kids. I was also quite well acquainted with the fact that I was built just like my Grandmother Genevieve. Small of stature, and wide of hip. I barely broke 100 lbs at the time, but my genetics were pretty obvious, and I knew hips were in my future. So, if I tattood a sweet little butterfly on my butt, what would it end up looking like? At the time, I insisted it would probably end up looking like a Luna Moth. A fat, hairy, unattractive thing that you would NOT want etched on your backside. But now I realize a much greater possibility is that it would have looked more like a buzzard. Ugly, droopy........... No thanks.
So. By process of elimination, the decision had been made. I would get my ears double pierced. So far, I don't regret it, but perhaps someday I will if I get saggy old lady ear lobes at some point. I was called "trailer trash" one time. A very proper southern "friend" made sure I knew how she felt. She had a lot of air in her hair. And she was from the "old" south. Not the "cool" south. That's right, kids. Southern California!!!
Your adornment must not be merely external -
braiding the hair, and wearing gold jewelry,
or putting on dresses;
but let it be the hidden person of the heart,
with the imperishable quality of
a gentle and quiet spirit,
which is precious in the sight of God.
1 Peter 3:3-4
