On my 18th birthday, I decided to get my first tattoo. After swapping my learner’s permit for a state ID at the DMV, I made my way to a tattoo shop located in a strip mall, nestled between a Chinese takeout and a Dunkin’ Donuts.
I wish I could say there was a deep or thoughtful reason behind my choice, but truthfully, I simply wanted a tattoo because my mother was against it. How typical, right?
After scrolling through flash designs—those pre-drawn images that include everything from cherries to cartoon characters—I was approached by a large, burly man with a beard. When he asked if I needed help, I panicked and pointed to the first image that caught my eye: a black cross intertwined with a yellow rose. He hesitated, likely sensing my impulsiveness, and tried to dissuade me, reminding me that I wasn’t religious and that I wanted the tattoo on my lower back—a spot that would only be seen in intimate or revealing situations.
Over the years, I’ve accumulated quite a few body modifications. Currently, I sport 14 piercings and countless tattoos that blend into one another. Despite this, I have made a conscious decision not to pierce my daughter’s ears.
Yes, you read that right. The woman with a half-shaved head and vibrant hair isn’t rushing to adorn her toddler’s ears with jewelry.
From the time my daughter was a newborn, family members frequently asked when I planned to pierce her ears, expressing disbelief that I hadn’t done so already. “With all your tattoos and piercings, I just thought you would be into it!” they would say.
I could have responded with sarcasm or dismissed their queries as intrusive, but I simply explained that piercing my daughter’s ears was not something I intended to pursue.
What seemed like a straightforward choice to them is precisely why I choose to wait. The decision about body modifications, including ear piercings, should be left to her when she is older and more capable of making such choices for herself.
While my own ears were pierced in a rather DIY fashion by my mother with a sewing needle and ice, I feel it’s important to respect my daughter’s autonomy. Baby or toddler ear piercing raises significant consent issues, something I believe is essential to consider.
All my modifications were my decisions, and yes, some of them were less than wise. If my daughter, at 6, 8, or even 10, expresses a desire for ear piercings, I would be happy to educate her and accompany her to a reputable piercing shop, like those recommended by the Association of Professional Piercers. But I refuse to impose my will on her for the sake of vanity. After all, piercing her ears won’t benefit her culturally or medically, nor will it spare her from any pain more significant than a tiny sting.
Small, sparkly studs may be appealing, but they won’t bring her happiness—not at this age. For now, her joy comes from Cheerios, Mickey Mouse, and Elmo, not earrings.
If you’re interested in more parenting philosophies, check out this related post on our blog. And if you’re looking for authoritative information on pregnancy, the CDC offers excellent resources on fertility and related topics.
Summary
The author reflects on the philosophy of “My Body, My Choice” in relation to ear piercing, emphasizing the importance of consent and personal autonomy. Despite her own extensive body modifications, she chooses not to pierce her daughter’s ears until she is old enough to make that decision herself.