I didn’t do it when all the other girls were doing it.
Was I afraid it would hurt?
My sister wanted her ears pierced and our parents got them pierced for her, for her tenth birthday. I remember sitting beside her, in that chair, thinking there was no way.
I am two years younger. Two years later, I chose a McDonald’s birthday party instead.
I couldn’t possibly be afraid of the pain, or was I?
Just a few more years and I had to face any fear of pain, fear of needles, as I was required to have a lot of them. A diagnosis for how sick I felt was badly needed. Blood tests (needles) confirmed the suspected diagnosis of kidney failure.
I would soon have many scars, including the scar tissue in my arms, from the needles.
I had no choice but to face my fears. In my early twenties I finally decided I should get my ears pierced.
I’d been gifted a pair of heart earrings, one day, while I sat at dialysis, by a favourite nurse. I could not wear them.
For years I liked to play with those stick on earrings, but one day I decided it was time, far passed time, and off I went.
Did I need to enter a medical crisis, in order to be forced to face my fears, before I could risk the pain of having holes punched in my earlobes?
I love my pierced ears now. They allow me to walk around with a little bit of adornment and ornament, as I am not usually a jewelry and accessories kind of a girl.
***This is my first year of joining the A to Z Challenge and so I’ve decided to post randomly, as a way for new visitors to my blog to get to know me a little better.