By Pam R From Troy, NC

Tongue ring

 

I’ve always had a fascination with piercings, what younger person hasn’t? The pretty jewelry, the cute studs, the idea that for a little bit of pain you can be adorned with beautiful jewelry for the rest of your life if you choose. And if you decide to take it out, you simply have a small scar left.
I decided that I wanted my tongue pierced when I was 14. And of course, my parents wouldn’t let me.
I talked constantly to my friends about it, especially my best friend, Emily.
We agreed that on our eighteenth birthday that was what we were going to do.
Only she didn’t want anything pierced, she wanted a tattoo, a tinker bell tattoo.
That was ok though, as long as we were doing it together 🙂
Four long years I waited. I thought about it doing it myself at times. I thought about having a friend do it. But I never went through with it.
And finally I turned 18. Emily dutifully waited on me (her birthday is exactly one month and 9 days before mine) and we loaded up and drove to our preferred piercing and tattoo parlor.
Apparently I have a short tongue because the guy doing it kept getting mad that I wasn’t sticking it out far enough. But once he got the clamps on it was almos over.
In went the needle and then in went my very first, brand new, tongue stud.
It hurt. More than I expected. But it was worth it.
While we waited on Emily to get her tattoo we drove to the store down the road and got some ice for me to suck on. It was awkward at first, since my tongue was already swelling.
It’s been ten years and I’ve still got that darned little thing. I love it. Except for the time I swallowed one of the balls eating popcorn, I haven’t went a day without it. 😀