I got my nose pierced the other day; I had to wait until I was old enough. Nose rings look sweet and sexy on dewy young creatures in their twenties, so I couldn’t do it before now. Because I didn’t want to look sweet. I did not want to be in the least bit like a rose petal or a fawn.

Now, though, in my mid seventies, my face is increasingly blotchy, wrinkled, and asymmetrical, and my nose is bigger (cartilage keeps growing all your life), so a small gold nose ring strikes just the right note. Sensible. Practical. Like a heavy duty paper clip or a button. I feel like a secret pirate, actually. Rough, harsh, and scarred. 

The piercer did a very nice job indeed adjusting the angle for my deviated septum, and the piercer (a young dewy thing in her twenties, with many facial piercings) snuck in that fierce needle so that, though the tears flowed immediately, I didn’t flinch while she was doing it.

She made me sit there in her little office until she was sure I wasn’t going to faint. Her mother was a midwife, she told me. She said I would look cool with my nose ring, and I said I didn’t want to look cool. She pretended to understand. We parted amicably.

I tipped her well. 

I have three other piercings, all in my ear cartilage. The oldest one, the helix, is  from 35 years ago when I got my first teaching job. I forget why I got the other two. 

Well, five. I’m not counting the lobe piercings, which I did myself with a needle and an ice cube nearly 70 years ago when my mother went back on her promise to let me. I gave up wearing earrings in them decades ago. 

The nose is right there in the middle of my face, so I suppose my ring will be more noticeable, though I wear a N95 mask indoors most of the time. 

When I shake my head I can feel the ring flutter. It is exactly what I wanted. And though I am a very sensible person and I have always shown up for everyone else when it was necessary, I still get to do what I want.

Unfortunately, I realize, when I look in the mirror, the ring makes me look sweet. I’ll just have to live with that, I suppose.