15 months ago I pierced my eyebrow. I loved it. Like really, really loved it. All the way home, all day long, and into the next day. At school, they loved it and I loved it more. I had a soccer game the next day and because it was newly pierced, I didn’t dare take it out, so I put a band-aid over it before I got to the field. I played more cautiously, and while I still loved my new eyebrow piercing, doubt started to enter because for the first time I realized my limitations with the piercing. After the game I took the band-aid off and I got mixed reviews, but nothing negative. I’m sure some were thinking “mid-life crisis” right about then.

Then, on day 3, I didn’t love it anymore. With the weekend approaching (namely church), fear gripped my soul and I began to second guess everything. I couldn’t move. I was paralyzed with fear and stayed holed up in my house.

What are people going to say?

What are people going to think??

In fact, it occupied my thoughts so much, anxiety became my new best friend. It consumed me and permeated my dreams. I dreamt that I was in the hallway at church and  all of our dirty clothes were sorted in piles, chest-high, taking up the entire hallway. The bell was about to ring to dismiss the congregation and there was no where to hide; they were coming my way and my dirty laundry would be visible to all. And then I woke up. My eyebrow hurt. I looked up and my hand was clutching the skin around my eyebrow ring, with my fingernails dug deep into my skin leaving quite the impression. Figuratively and quite literally.

All day Saturday I struggled with the decision to take it out, or leave it in and skip church and decide next week what to do. My internal thoughts went something like this…

“you are a coward”

“my family (parents, siblings, in-laws) will be so disappointed in me”

“you will lose friends/family over this”

“you will be judged harshly”

“you’re a sinner”

and on and on…

And then my husband listened to my tearful sentiments, held me, consoled me, and offered this, “you pierced purposefully, you can do it. you are stronger than you know.”

I decided to keep it in and attend church, but just to be safe I parted my hair on the other side so it covered the piercing. I taught the 17/18 year old Sunday School class and tried to think of what I would say if they caught glimpse of my eyebrow ring. I couldn’t think of how to answer so I prayed that they wouldn’t notice. I made it home with nary a murmur or second glance. Relief washed over me.

On Monday I loved my piercing once again. Maybe even more than the week before because I was back at school where I felt accepted and loved. No.Matter.What. The university was my home away from home. I was in my element and truly happy both at school and at home where I felt safe.

I kept parting my hair on the other side for another month. Just on Sundays.

It was hard for me to not tuck my hair behind my ear because 1-it’s a nervous habit, and 2-I don’t like hair in my face. I felt I needed some kind of sign to know when it was “safe” to relax and not worry about hiding the piercing anymore.

We were sitting in the back row at church when I absentmindedly tucked my hair behind my ear. Some time had passed and as I was glancing over at my children, a parent of a student in my Sunday School class caught my attention and pointed at his eyebrow with a questioning look. My face flushed. I was caught. I felt like a child again, caught doing something terrible. I nodded in acknowledgment, what else could I do?? He gave me a thumbs-up sign, smiled, and sat back. I nervously smiled and felt a little more at ease. I kept my hair tucked back.