I got my first tattoo on my 18th birthday. After a quick stop at the DMV to swap my learner’s permit for a state ID, I ventured to a tattoo shop tucked between a Chinese takeout and a coffee chain. It wasn’t a moment of deep thought or rebellion; I simply wanted a tattoo because my mom didn’t want me to have one. Classic teen move, right?
I spent a few fleeting minutes browsing flash designs—those pre-drawn images that scream “I made a life choice in five minutes!”—until a burly guy with a beard approached me. I nervously pointed at the first image I spotted: a black cross entwined with a yellow rose. He tried to talk me out of it, noting that I wasn’t religious and that the placement on my lower back was less than ideal. But hey, that was ages before the term “tramp stamp” became a thing. Spoiler alert: I have that tattoo, but it’s not my proudest moment.
Over the years, I’ve become something of a body modification enthusiast—14 piercings and countless tattoos later, I’m practically a canvas. But here’s the kicker: I refuse to pierce my daughter’s ears. Yup, the punk mom with vibrant hair and multiple piercings is not going to put jewelry on her toddler unless she asks.
Before my daughter even learned to sit up, relatives were already pestering me about when I’d get her ears pierced. “You have all those piercings and tattoos, so why not her?” they’d say, bewildered. While I could’ve snapped back or joked about a cartoon character tattoo for her third birthday, I calmly explained that ear piercing wasn’t on my agenda.
For them, it seemed like a no-brainer—since I have modifications, my daughter should too. But that’s precisely why I won’t do it. Body autonomy is essential, and only she should decide what happens to her body, and that decision comes with age and understanding, not from parental pressure.
“But it’s just her ears!” some might say, recalling their own childhood experiences of home piercings using sewing needles and ice cubes. But this is about consent. My body modifications were mine to choose, and I made my fair share of questionable decisions. The last thing I’d want is to impose my choices on her.
If my daughter decides she wants her ears pierced at 6 or 8 or even 10, I’ll be there to support her and help her find a professional piercer—maybe even one from the Association of Professional Piercers (APP). But I won’t force it upon her, nor will I act on my own desires. Piercing her ears for my satisfaction wouldn’t be fair; it’s not a cultural necessity for us, nor is it medically required. Plus, the discomfort of a quick ear piercing is no worse than a bee sting, which hardly warrants the fuss.
While cute little stud earrings might dazzle, they won’t bring her happiness right now—she’s much more into Cheerios and Mickey Mouse, thank you very much.
If you’re interested in more parenting insights, be sure to check out our article on home insemination kits, where we discuss family planning and more.
In summary, I believe in respecting my daughter’s choices when it comes to her body. Ear piercing is a decision she should make when she’s ready—not something I impose on her.