Average Jane

I am in those holes

There are parts of my life buried in holes in plain sight. My past is hidden only from those not looking. My “used to be” is written all over my face.

Did you know me back when? Did you know my when I was “holier” than you? Twice a year all the way through college I went to a piercing salon and punctured myself, putting glittering metal into my skin — rendering me invisible. Without knowing it, it was what I desperately wanted.

It started with my eyebrow my freshman year and then my tragus. Next my tongue. Then my daith. Lip. Labret. Industrial. Nipple. Just one.

Why? Until recently, I thought it was because I just liked how it looked. I realize now it was so much more than that. When I was pierced, someone could look at me and just know — just know that we had something in common. Without words, I had a community who wouldn’t judge me, wouldn’t think I was crazy. We knew each other without ever speaking a word. That distance was all we needed to be close.

That same distance also kept me safely insulated from making any real friends in an image-obsessed city like Miami. I was lonely, limited to a group of people who would talk to an pierced, (sometimes) black haired, fat kid who was clearly depressed, and had no idea what she wanted from the world. It was a lonely, lonely time, but in the end it taught me that every single person willing to talk to me is a person worth talking to. It taught me that my worth, even when unappreciated (or unnoticed) by my most will be appreciated by some. And those some are worth all the others combined.

Being a part of that community – the community of the ignored, the judged, the misunderstood – meant the world to me. Those people were good people.

To look at me now you wouldn’t know. You wouldn’t see the dark, twisty girl who spend 4 sad years building metal barriers. But when I see you… you tattooed, pierced, pink-haired, overweight “friends” of mine who don’t know we share so much… when I see you I am jealous. I wish that I could disappear in plain sight once again, only seen by those who wouldn’t judge me regardless of what I looked like. I wish you could look at me and see my past. My outsider-ness. I am still an outsider on the inside. But now I have no proof.

When I talk to you about your tattoos, you don’t take me seriously. You think I’m judging you, too. You think I’m one of them. You don’t see my scars. My holes.

Today, at the gym I saw them. I got right up close to the mirror and instead of looking at all of my imperfections as I typically do, I saw my perfect holes. A true reminder that I am who I used to be in some small way. If I could get all my piercings back again I would. I loved them. I loved how they looked and how they felt. I loved that jewelery like you love your diamond ring, your fancy watch, your new necklace. But my jewelery was a part of me in a way that yours never could be.

If you look close enough, you’ll see… they is there in plain sight. My outsider past; my desire to never judge anyone without knowing them.

I know what its like to be hurt — and trust me… the needles hurt the least.

Do your scars tell your story?

P.S. There are wildly humorous stories about my piercings, too. Another time, my darlings. Another time.


Trackbacks & Pingbacks


  1. * Mr. Emily says:

    This was such a great post!

    When are we going to get tats?! The Baltimore Tattoo Museum is waiting for us!

    | Reply Posted 9 years, 8 months ago
  2. it’s hard to understand how social groups work in the united states. I’ve always seen teen movies with the nerds being beaten up by the jocks who went out with the cheerleaders, and not the goth girls. And I’d always thought it was an over simplification/caricature meant to make those movies understandable to a wiiiide audience.
    And then one of my teachers, who happens to be american told us about how weird he felt when he landed here and couldn’t find the usual groups, “only “normal” people” he said. That along with a couple of other things including this post made me realize maybe it really works the way it was depicted in those teen movies.

    You live in a weird country.

    Not that they’re aren’t social distinctions here, especially among kids and then teen. Not at all. But it’s not based on trying to fit in groups as much as in the us, it’s more open and one can wear what the playground thugs wear and be a nerd, or have piercings and be among the hot chicks. Especially if said piercings are located on her nipples (so hawt, you rock).

    I’m over simplifying myself… the point is, there are rather strong social groups here, and the younger the stronger I’d say, junior highschool is a cast society, but one can circulate among several groups or stay in the middle and be fine that way.

    ‘not sure this small presentation was very useful…>_>

    And yeah, great post:)

    | Reply Posted 9 years, 8 months ago

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: