Maybe a year ago I started to think about getting my nipples done. I'm surprised that I did because it's pretty far removed from my normal sphere. I have no other mods but I started thinking about this one. The secretness, the shininess, the technological appeal of metal. A girl, some girl, discovering them with her hands, someone feeling my body through my shirt. Somebody hungry.
At A Glance Author bBrave Contact bBrave@bme.anon IAM guava When Six months ago Artist Gentle Johnny Studio Ritualistics Location Edmonton I told myself I was sure. I told my girlfriend : "I think I've decided, I want to get my nipples pierced."
She wanted her clit done. I knew I would have to be brave and strong to face a needle, but when she had told me this I was far from brave. I was afraid. I was afraid I would be left behind. I was afraid there would be no need for me once she had her new toy. I was angry at the thought of another boy's hands down there someday, discovering her secrets. I was resentful that it wasn't enough for her to be sexier than me, more beautiful than me. I was resentful that she wanted more. Her orgasms were like nuclear bombs : do you have to accelerate the arms race? Worst, while she was healing there was going to be no sex, maybe for six weeks. And for what? Not for me.
She said it was getting close to when she wanted to do it, early enough to be healed in time for the summer festival season. Like hell was I going to be left behind. I was going to beat her to the punch. I wanted my nipples done, period, and I wanted them done first.
I didn't realize why I was afraid of the needle. It is clearer to me now. Karma is how the feelings you have in the present and your actions in the past affect the way you will experience your life in the future. Angry and afraid of life I was. How could I be ready to face a needle?
At first I thought it was just fear of physical pain. I read everything I could on BME and, yeah, people said it hurt.
I've known pain. All of 16 - 19 was pain. I was dumped in a way that really hurt when I was 21. Then at 24. I'd just cut my finger pretty bad, 5 stitches. Life itself hurts : why _exactly are we here? In my life I'd biked until it hurt, studied til it hurt, fucked til it hurt, pushed it til it hurt. I did it. All this things, I did it, but somehow I forgot. All I could think was that I was going to be dumped by this beautiful girl who decided she didn't need me because her pierced clit was the ticket to a new and better life. Freakiness and metal as her dowry.
I was down. But sometimes when I am down I can feel the swoop, the unnatural mood change from way down to way up. Something happened to trigger a swing. I could feel myself feeling better about myself, feeling more rash, more inclined to quit my job tell off my boss dump my girl burn some money fuck somebody new. I told myself now was the time.
I phoned a piercing studio that I'd heard good things about. I talked to them. I went to see them. I told them I was nervous. Yeah yeah. I went back and forth until I finally made an appointment for that weekend. I didn't tell my girlfriend, didn't intend to, didn't think that I was going to.
She found out. I was hoping she'd be astonished, agape, but she wasn't. She asked if I wanted her to come with me. Sure.
I told myself I wasn't so much afraid that it would hurt but rather that I would chicken out three steps from the door and waste the time of the person who was booked to pierce me at $100 an hour. Looking back all I needed to do was believe in myself. It would have helped to be doing this for the right reasons. I was anxious as the day drew closer.
I went to a drugstore, got some EMLA, and in the hour before the appointment I spread the stinking stuff all over me to deaden the experience. The purpose of life is to live but I decided to anesthetize myself to pain. Makes sense, but it doesn't.
I got to the studio and went into the back room with Gentle Johnny. Sometimes I say things I don't recognize when I am trying to get people to respect me. I made some joke about bravery as I took off the EMLA patches and turned to face the man with the needle.
"Oh no, dude, EMLA?"
I looked at him.
"I can't do it. I can't pierce you if you've used that shit."
Oh no.
"EMLA changes the way your tissue sits so I pierce you and then it wears off and..." he made a slurping sound and a drooping motion with his hands, like sagging tits, "...and then your piercings go crooked. I can't do it. I won't. You won't be happy with them."
Looking back it is simple now : be strong. Don't be afraid. But I didn't know that then.
"Aww," Johnny continued, "and you looked like you were really ready to get them done and I really wanted to do them for you."
"Can you fit me in later today?"
"EMLA takes an hour to wear off..." -- he looked at a paper -- "...and I have an appointment at six and then I'm going out with a girl at seven and after I'm going to do her new tattoo."
Whatever my motivation, I'd gotten so close, only to have to turn back because of EMLA, which (I learned) they called Wuss Cream. I was my own stumbling block.
"Listen," he said, "come at seven. She'll understand, I'll tell her and we'll go a little later. Does that work?"
For him to rearrange his schedule like that I had to be sure. "Yes," I told him.
When I knew that I was sure it was like a weight lifted from me. We came back at seven. The procedure was simple and clean. Johnny was scrupulously hygienic and talked me through the whole thing. I didn't need too much coaching because really, it's simple -- just breathe out more than you breathe in, every time. Something had clicked. I wasn't afraid.
"Is that it?" But I could tell that was it.
It didn't hurt. It didn't hurt at all. It hurt less than zero. It felt like someone pinching me gently between their fingernails.
The EMLA must not have worn off. By rights, having a needle -- more like a nail -- driven through your NIPPLE should hurt, but it didn't. Even when my worst fear came true -- the barbell didn't go all the way through like it was supposed to, causing Johnny to have to run for a tool to extract it -- I was able to lie there calm because it didn't physically hurt. Another little tug and the jewelry was through.
Some people say feeling the needle go through is this weird intense sexual feeling like nothing you've ever felt before but I didn't get that either. Just : nothing.
"Do you want to keep going?"
"Yep, let's do the other one, no way I am not."
So he stuck the other one, the left this time, and it didn't hurt either. Then I stood up and looked at myself. They were perfect.
I paid, tipped, etc.
Six months later I love them. They are perfect and they get better every time I see them in the mirror. They have boosted my self confidence like nothing. I can show off my body now. I feel sexy. I feel attractive even with clothes on. I feel like I took control of my own life.
But I've had this recurring dream. It happens in the early hours of the morning before my alarm goes off for the day. I'm lying in bed, usually face down. I put my hands to my chest. One of my nipple piercings is gone. I'm frantic. It's just gone, I can see the hole, and I know it's closing over. Can I find the barbell fast enough to get it back in? I know I'm going to have to face the needle again. I can't bear the thought. I lie there anxious and agitated and half asleep. Then it dawns on me that I am dreaming and I put my hands to my chest and feel that both pieces of metal are still there, and I wake up.
Be brave : |