the emotional pain of my latest piercing.

On my last night at home before returning to school, I was spending time with my "little brother."
We were walking around the mall and talking about tattoos.
I wanted another one.
I knew it wasn't a god idea, and I knew that my mother would kill me.
But I wanted another one.
Just for the sake of getting another tattoo.
I texted my friend Elizabeth, with whom I was going to be getting ice cream that evening, and asked her if she'd like to join us.
We picked her up and were on our way.
We got to the shop and I signed the paperwork and made a snap decision about what to get.
My internal conflict was a huge hint that being in that place was not a good idea.

As I sat and thought about what I was about to do, I considered my parents.
They would not be pleased with me.
We were all getting used to the ink on my foot, but something new, even in a place they wouldn't see, would mean serious discussion.

You see, I have never been good at keeping secrets from my parents.
I just can't do that.

I ended up deciding against the tattoo.
But I couldn't leave the shop without getting something done.
Pride. That's what it was about.
I opted for a piercing.
I would have loved to get my nose pierced, but I definitely couldn't hide that.
I am against getting my bellybutton pierced, because I sleep on my stomach.
I don't like any kind of lip or eyebrow piercing.
I needed something out of the ordinary.

I chose a spot on my right ear about halfway between my earlobe and my other cartilage piercing.
I knew through the whole process that I was making a mistake.
I was sinning.
I had the wrong attitude about all of it.
I was dishonoring my parents and therefore disobeying God.

But I did it anyway.

Hurt like nobody's business.
Worse than any of my other piercings.
About the same amount of pain as the tattoo, but a wider needle.
And it didn't stop hurting when the guy took his hands away.

I took Evan back to his car, and Liz and I went out to Jefferson Pointe to meet our friend Emily at Coldstone.
My ear was killing me, I was an emotional wreck, I felt ill.
I had just wasted money.

After we got our ice cream and sat and talked for a while, I knew I had to confess.
I changed my facebook status (lame, right?) and called my mom.

When I got home, my parents were not pleased.
We still needed to load the van with all of my school stuff.
(I had been driving it that evening, just like almost every evening all summer.)
I had disobeyed them.

We had a great talk about my attitude.

I chose to keep the earring in as a reminder to not be impulsive.
My ear still hurts and it's been really crusty.
So much so that I took out the hoop today and put in a stud for about an hour.
I put the hoop back in.
It's still healing, so I'm not surprised that it's been gross.
But it's super gross.

Yes, Mom, I'm keeping it clean. :-)

In happier news, I feel much better about the situation that led to my post the other night.

Good night, readers.
You are wonderful.