Well Bless my Septum
I went to a Jewish school as a kid and yes, I had a big nose. My dad is Sephardic and my mom was raised Irish Catholic and I had the misfortune of inheriting my father's nose. To make matters worse, one day in the sixth grade this girl with a really small nose (but a really large derriere) who was Jewish on both sides walks up to me and says, "No offense," (she always says no offence before saying something that's assured to offend you,) "No offense, but you have a really big nose. I mean, it's like its own continent on your face that can only be reached by land line. Seriously, that thing is freaking huge." For three months after my tactful peer's comments, I would lay awake at night trying to press down the bump on the bridge of my nose. I became extremely resentful of my father for passing along his tell-tale nose the one that constantly got me made fun of on the playground of the public school I was yanked out of after first grade. My hatred of my features led t o depression in high-school and my earning the role of female class clown, in an attempt to cover up my depression with laughter.
Well, sometime during the summer after my junior year, I woke up one day from an empowering dream about distance running, (that was always my thing, I was never a flyer.) I looked in the mirror and said, "damn girl, you got to own it." Well, ok, it wasn't quite like that, but you get the picture. Fortunately, I was just about to turn 18, and knew that the day would come soon when I could realize, in physical form, my sudden insight. About a week after my birthday I drove to a tattoo/piercing studio near my high-school, marched up to the counter with my huge honker held high and asked for a nostril piercing. Ever since then, I have loved my nose. I would sometimes daydream during philosophy lectures, my freshman year of college, gazing at the small, Aryan nose of a classmate and thinking, "my nose could eat his nose....and it would still be hungry...."
Well, I was digging this new attitude, and I even pulled out of my depression. I started running again and actually lost 15 pounds during my freshman year of college. It wasn't until about two weeks ago that I made a mental connection that resulted in a sleepless night spent on bmezine.com gathering all the information I could related to septum piercings. Man, was I excited. So excited that I had to go the next day and have the piercing done. I was blessed to cross paths with the very talented and sweet-hearted Jamie, of Slave to the Needle in my neighborhood of Seattle. He met with me right away, and explained the process of the piercing, and about "finding that sweet spot." I had brought my college roommate and friend (a Jewish convert from Alaska) along for support. Jamie chatted and joked with us for a few minutes while I was filling out my forms, and then we headed back into his "office" (aka, the piercing room.) He proceeded to glove his hands and pick my nos e for me. Then he said, "I gotta swab some of this stuff in your nose that's going to make it smell like Band-aids for the next couple of hours." I laughed so hard I cried as he had said this in a deadpan voice. By the end, he was giggling, too. He marked the spot and after I joked about the copious 'surface area' he had to work with to find a place to pierce my nose, I said nervously, "Ok, so I know this is gonna sounds weird, but I can't close my eyes. I gotta watch, or I'll freak out. Never liked surprises, ya know?" Jamie said, "Aww, that's fine. You do whatever you need to get through this." I think that was the moment Jamie officially became my piercer ? . The piercing was more spiritual than painful and when it was over, I knew it was the right thing to do even before I looked in the mirror. I thanked Jamie, and ended up coming in a couple days later to discuss stretching my lobes. In the two weeks since, I have caught every glimpse possible in every refl ective surface I pass. My family, including my parents-in-law, hates my septum piercing, and I'm just sad they can't understand the significance of my experience. Despite the fact that my dad hates the piercing (and perhaps, ironically) I thank him in my heart, every time I notice him in profile, for my big, beautiful nose. I think I will love this piercing for a long, long time.
On another happy note, my husband is excited to come with me this week to get a VCH piercing from Jamie. My husband has a large nose too, over which he spent many self-conscious years of youthful disdain - and we hope to have babies with big, beautiful noses as well someday.
submitted by: Anonymous
on: 20 June 2008
in Nose Piercing