In February 2022, Middle Sis and I went together to get our noses pierced. She was 16 years old and I was 51, and so she (minor) needed me there, with her birth certificate and my approval in hand, while I needed to fulfill my own longing.
I have wanted to pierce my nose for most of my adult life but talked myself out of it for decades, mainly prompted by What Other People Might Think. My desire remained steady while I grew increasingly aware of other 40-to-50-year-old women with new sparkles in their noses. And then came the era of living and consorting with representatives of a generation of young adults who don't understand how piercings and tattoos have anything to do with their character and heart and efficacy and don't fear loss of jobs, reputations, and respect as a result (of course, time will tell if there are any lingering "ragrets," tattoo removals, or unadorned piercing holes left to close up. And then they'll be like any other aging generation, with their shoulda woulda couldas accompanied by shrugs).
As for me, I knew immediately after our appointment that I loved my nose ring, and two years later, I am still giddily happy about it and have forgiven myself for not having it done earlier, while vowing to wear a nose ring through my dying day. Part of the celebration is, after all, that I did the thing I always wanted to do, finally at 50+ years old, and it wasn't too late and I still have my job and my family, and I was right about wanting it all along. There are even intermittent unexpected compliments from friends, acquaintances, and new-to-me-people which pop up here and there to make me really feel good about how many times Evan has helped me through my Piercing Problems.
I think there are all sorts of ways to get your nose or ears pierced, including by your bestie or a complete stranger with ice and a safety pin or needle in a bedroom or dorm room or party and/or with a teenager armed with a piercing gun at a mall jewelry store, but these times (including Tootsie's ear piercing for her 9th birthday) we opted to make appointments at a dedicated piercing place with crystals and geodes and succulents and a private room where you lie down and Evan, one of the gentlest, kindest humans I've met, talks you through the experience and urges you to listen and follow all the guidance and be responsible about the wound you agreed to have inflicted and then come back in a few months to change out your piercing when you are so moved.
By September of 2022 I was ready to shorten my nose ring post and upgrade to a sparkly little flower stud, which sat flatter on my fully-healed nose and didn't get caught on so many things as the original stud. I think I would have lived happily ever after with that very cute silver-petaled jewel I had no reason to take out.
Except for my annual stint as Elf on the Shelf.
In 2019, my second year as principal at the elementary school, I adopted an idea from my sister-in-law, whose admin team posed on the roof of their high school on the last day of school before the holidays in Elf costumes. I initiated a tradition of perching myself in various spots still as a statue, much to the delight and wonderment of my students, who guessed but couldn't confirm the Elf's identity as Principal of our School.
But then on December 2022, at recess, one particular student let me know he knew it was me up there on the ledge because of my nose ring.
I thought about that all year long going into Elf Season 2023. And during my early AM Elf Transformation, in my thorough attempt to sustain plausible deniability, I dutifully took out my earrings and the nose ring, consisting of two parts, and safely put them away to be restored during my transition back to Madam Principal in Street Clothes + Other Identifying Accessories.
But I grossly miscalculated how difficult it would be to stick the back post through a hole in my nose from inside my nostril and then pop the stud into the post from the outside. I think the second part would have been easy if I could have just achieved the first part.
I dropped both pieces into the sink (which I lined with paper towels just in case) multiple times and should have given up early and resumed more important Principal Duties, but I was determined to be visible as the Principal with the Nose Ring vs. Elf with No Nose Ring.
Finally, almost as predicted, the stud part bounced or popped out onto the floor and I could NOT find it, not with my phone flashlight, not with a broom, not with paper towels wiping the entire floor, and not with well-meaning colleagues all taking a gander. I was so ANNOYED. I was annoyed as well as embarrassed about caring so much about maintaining Elf Identity, and then even more annoyed and embarrassed about caring so much about my nose ring. Filled with exasperation with myself, I took the post part that remained and stuck it in my nose backwards so the flat disc part was at least visible outside and keeping my nose piercing pierced, albeit loosely.
I spent the rest of the day getting over myself and also making sure that unsecured post stayed put in my nose until I could get home and try again to attach my original stud.
The next episode in this story involves my futile attemtps at home to stick that little post through the inside of my nostril through to the outside. I could not make it work with a finger and that tiny post in my nose. So I tried using tweezers, but I would either not squeeze the tweezers tightly enough, and the post would fall back out of my nose into the sink, or I'd squeeze too hard and the post would pop out of the tweezers and also fall right out. Clearly, the responsible thing was to give up again and go back to Evan for help. Instead, I persisted. Until that time I squeezed too hard (again) and felt the post pop out of the tweezers but not into the sink and then not onto the floor in any place I could find it. I searched and searched and searched because. BECAUSE THE ONLY OTHER SCENARIO WAS THAT THE POST SPRUNG OUT OF THE TWEEZERS AND UP INTO MY NOSE AND THEN QUITE POSSIBLY INTO MY LUNGS OR SINUSES.
And as soon as I thought of this possibility I could not unthink it.
I tried aggressive nose blowing in hopes the tiny metal thingamajig would safely come out of my nasal cavity with no success.
I turned to Google, which did not help. There were stories of infections and surgeries and x-ray photos of tiny metallic objects embedded in sinuses or lung tissue.
Meanwhile, it the weekend before Christmans with family in town and shopping to finish and events to attend and in the back of my mind I was wondering if I needed to go to Urgent Care if not just to reassure myself I didn't do the thing I was going to be embarrassed to tell anyone was a possibility. But that sounded like a whole day I might regret.
I decided to carry on for the time being with a variety of unsecured studs and even a hoop in my nose (not my best look) accompanied by frequent deep breaths to check for pain and/or shortness of breath. I scheduled an appointment with Evan for the day after Christmas to replace both lost parts, because it wasn't like I was going to stop having a nose ring, even if my lungs were possibly inflamed. I was willing to live with the hope/uncertainty that the post was an inconsequential new part of my body, like a pin in a joint or bone.
December 26th arrived, the day of the appointment to get a new nose ring professionally installed. That morning in the quiet after-holiday lull, I set about cleaning, including sweeping the bathroom and bedroom floors, floors I'd swept thoroughly in search of that missing post.
And yet, somehow, a couple sweeps in, I just happened to look down and just SOMEHOW happened to notice that tiny grey 3mm post on the floor.
Suddenly I DID NOT HAVE TO LIVE THE REST OF MY LIFE wondering where the HECK that little thing was.
In a new euphoric state of non-anxiety, I went to the piercing place and chose a new stud--this time a gold sunburst with a sparkly center. And I loved this new nose ring EVEN MORE than the last, especially because it came paired with the post I found on the floor instead of in my lungs or grey matter.
While Evan expertly installed my post and new stud, I explained the whole saga in a relieved, knee-slapping, isn't it funny that I thought I had that thing in my lungs? kind of way, and he patiently reminded me it was only $5 to have him put my nose ring back in, using tools.
I enjoyed that sunburst nose ring all the way up until one day in late April.
That morning in the shower, as I reached up to lather my face with soap, one of my finger rings caught on my nose ring and popped it off the post. It flew somewhere, and when I looked down, I knew it was more than likely that it went immediately down the drain. Nevertheless, I commenced a soggy search of the shower, covering the drain, wiping the floor systematically with my hands, and then with paper towels in hopes of finding that sparkly needle in a haystack.
This time, I could only shake my head at myself resignedly and keep the post in from the back precariously until I could get back to the piercing place to buy YET ANOTHER STUD. This time, with the backing still installed inside my nostril, I only needed to pick a new nose ring and pop it into the post myself. The sunbursts were apparently out of stock, so I went back to the silver flower design. They told me I could not put it in while I was in the store, and then gave me the helpful advice NOT to try to put it in in my car, which of course was going to be my first impulse.
I enjoyed that silver flower sparkle stud all the way up until last weekend.
On Friday afternoon I heard the news that a dear friend's biopsy results included cancer cells. On Saturday morning I learned that our close family friend's cancer prognosis had changed for the worse. And then a family member shared more life-altering news. I spent the afternoon in a sort of preparatory grief.
I took a late shower in the afternoon, after a run and various chores and errands. At the end of my shower I stooped over to scrub the corners of the stall with the brush we keep in there for that purpose. The first thing that caught my eye was a small strong, circular magnet we use for photos on our fridge, the kind that sometimes attaches to other metallic objects and can occasionally be found on the floor of the kitchen. I wondered how it found its way to our shower.
The next thing that caught my eye was that little gold sunburst stud. The one I lost two months and many showers and scrubbings ago in April. There it was. Not lost, not down the drain. Still unexpectedly there.
And this time, instead of celebratory relief at finding it, I felt a moment of well, hey, there you are, the thing I lost and maybe mourned a little, but now feels so simply replaceable, even over and over again. It's like it showed up to remind me you can have your nose ring back--actually, it does happen--but so much else might not be able to be found again in the same way, and this is what we have to accept. Maybe it's not so wrong to commit, even irrationally, to something that we know makes us sparkle and smile--something simple we can assure ourselves we can always have, in the face of so much that we cannot.