My crisis (when I realized I was not really being true to myself) started right before my 39th birthday. I remember the exact moment. I was shopping with my youngest son who was 6 at the time. He was looking for a birthday present for a girl in his class and he had observed that she had her ears pierced and he wanted to get her earrings. It was actually one of the sweetest times I have ever spent with him because he was SO thoughtful about it and so little. I had to pick him up to see into display cases and his cheeks were still pudgy and his hair was so soft. And it was just so much fun to shop for earrings. I told him that I thought he was getting her the perfect present and that I love earrings so much.

Because, I did and I do. Love earrings. So why, in the heck, did I not have my own ears pierced?

I desperately wanted them pierced as a girl and I begged for it. One by one my friends were getting earrings. It was agonizing.  It was just simply not allowed in my house. Because  “If Jesus wanted you to wear earrings you would have been born with holes in your ears!”.

Of course now I have a hundred come backs. Like maybe he wanted us to have a choice and oh, hey, what about my brother’s foreskin THAT HE WAS BORN WITH. Didn’t Jesus want him to keep that and not have it cut off for no good reason whatsoever? (So sorry to my brother for dragging him into this no longer existent debate and outing him as circumcised – Q: Is this a big deal? Do I have to get his permission for this? Can he sue me?).

I was told that when I turned 16 I could make my own decision. By the time I was 16 I was literally the only person I knew of that did not have pierced ears. I was a curiosity. I felt cool about it. People actually said things like “You don’t have your ears pierced? That is so cool”.  Later, when I got other body parts pierced, the fact that my ears were not pierced was even cooler.  I was legit cool. But that era has long past.

Case in point… my older son asked me one day a few years ago why my belly button looked weird, so I told him because when I was a teenager I had it pierced and I used to have a ring in it and it looked really cool. His response? “Having your belly button pierced is pretty much the opposite of cool”.

(Note to self. He must NEVER know about the nipple ring, and how both of my babies favoured that boob because milk squirted out the holes on the sides too.)

So at 38 … who was I being cool for? Um. Not a soul. Actually I was being totally uncool to my own soul. Because, as it turns out I never stopped wanting earrings. Actually, there are lots of things I never stopped wanting. Lot’s of denial. Lot’s of choices made for the approval of others, when really, what matters is being true to myself. It is starts with small steps, and it is a marathon, but one day I will get there.

On my 39th birthday I got my ears pierced. And I love wearing earrings. And I love when my sons buy me earrings.  I love that I have perky ear holes from waiting so damn long. Some of my friends complain that they can’t wear danglers anymore – but not me! Bring on the danglers!