Letting it Heal

An hour left to go before I had to be at prom and I had blood dripping down the side of my face, spilling onto my collarbones and the neckline of my (thankfully red) dress. I called my mother into the bathroom, and then my sister. I hoped that someone in my house would know better than me and would grab my hand, tell me what to do, and fix everything in the next thirty minutes. No luck. My mom covered my bleeding ear with her hand as she tried frantically to stop the bleeding. No luck. All I had wanted was for my earrings to match the rest of my jewelry for prom. Yet, standing in front of the mirror, watching the situation worsen with every drop of blood, I wasn’t sure if I would be going at all.

Six days prior, I had gone out shopping. I had a scarlet dress hanging in my closet already, and now I only needed to accessorize, a skill I had never personally possessed. I twisted the cartilage piercing on my ear that I had gotten done just a month before and it ached slightly. I remembered the piercer’s instructions clearly,- “Avoid pools, oceans, or hot tubs for two months, don’t touch it with dirty hands, and keep the original ring in for at least a year.” After browsing the shops in the mall, I picked out a small gold necklace with pearls and gold earrings with black obsidian gems for my earlobes. All that was left was to get a cartilage ring to match because no one in their right mind would combine silver and gold, especially not to prom. I picked the ring out, a little expensive for my taste but regardless, and made the drive back home. That night, I slept on my left side because the piercing was still too fresh to sleep otherwise. Five days left. The next day, I pulled my old black heels from my closet. I had never been a high-heel fan, but this was prom after all. Four days left. The night before prom, I texted my friends in typical teenage fashion, asking about pictures, dinner plans, and all the technicalities I hadn’t bothered to think of until that point. One day left, and I slept good.

After a thirty-minute shower, an hour of my mom messing with my hair, telling me, “It will just be one more minute,” and longer than I would like to admit plucking my eyebrows over the sink, I was almost there. The next step on my list should have been simple: jewelry. I recruited my sister to hook the back of my necklace, I stuck my earrings in my lobes, and finally, I unscrewed the ball on my cartilage piercing to switch the silver ring out for gold. I tried poking the gold one into my ear over and over and over. One hour left and I was panicking. The second I saw the ruby-red blood gather around the area, I started sobbing; I knew it was hopeless. My mom and sister both tried to wiggle the piercing into place. No luck. Fifty minutes left. After five more minutes of struggling we knew it was hopeless. I stuck a band-aid on the wound, gathered my pride, fixed my makeup, and met my mom outside to take pictures.

In the end, I never put the piercing back in. The pierced hole closed and I waited seven months to get it pierced again. With shame in my voice and a new hole in my head, I had to explain to the piercer why I removed the original ring against my better judgment. All told me was, “This time, let it heal.” I’ve taken that lesson to heart more recently. I have been healing both literally and metaphorically. On prom night, I was overwhelmed with the thoughts of what I wanted, not what I needed, not what was best for me. I realize now that the quick fix to a problem is seldom the best one. Had I just left the silver ring in my ear that night, I wouldn’t be sleeping on only my left side seven months later, and I would have saved myself a lot of stress and panic in that moment. I am letting it heal… and next prom, I will mix silver and gold jewelry if necessary.

Image credit: “5zd3li-l-610×610-jewels-earrings-helix-piercing-hoop-earrings-silver-earring-spike-earring-piercings-ear-cuff” by ruthsilvaaa is licensed under CC BY-SA 2.0.