The Life of a Minority

For a few months now I have been squawking to my husband and I want to get my naval pierced. He kept on telling me NO! I don’t have any tattoos or piercings on my face like most people my age and I thought that getting a naval ring would do me justice! You see, I don’t want to be one of those people who look back on their life and say I wish I would’ve done this or that. I want to be one of the ones that say that I wanted to do it and I did.

Hubby stopped by the tattoo shop today – out of the blue. I was so excited, finally I thought, this is my time to just dive in. 

Boy was I wrong.

7 years ago before I met my husband I thought the same thing about getting my tongue pierced. I did that too, but it only lasted about 3 days. The swelling and pain was so intense, I had to take it out. It was awful.

This time it would be different.

So, I was all “gung-ho” about the entire thing today… until the doors opened. 

I am such a weenie!

I hate needles. I am terrified of the dentist. I am a grown woman who cries in the dentists office. My threshold for pain is extremely low. I think it’s lower than most people. 

So, I went in.

I sat down in the chair and to hide the fact that my heart was beating so fast that I just knew it was going to plop out onto the floor, I started talking and joking. I felt nauseous. I just knew I was going to throw up. I told my husband to come in and hold my hand.

I am such a big baby. 

The guy working there politely cleaned the area, put his blue gloves on and started taking sterile tools from newly unopened packages. He put one of those purple dots on me with that stupid pen they used and took the medical clamp to my tummy. One, Two, Three he counted. Then went the needle.

I almost peed my pants.

I didn’t look at the needle before hand (for good reason) but afterwards I looked and it was a good 4 inches long. OUCH!! The entire time that he was working on me I was squirming and fussing and it was terrible.

Then, it was done.

I got up and looked at my new “experience trophy” in the mirror. It was cute. It wasn’t, however, cute enough to do again. I am glad that I did it. Now I won’t look back at my life in 20  years and say “I wish I would have done it”. Instead I will say “I did it”.