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It’s true what they say - once you get bitten by the piercing bug, you’re going to want more. And more. Until your body resembles a pincushion and most of genteel society avoids you like the leper in Jerusalem during whatever year Jesus was born.

It’s been over a year since I got my eyebrow pierced, and exactly a year since I got my inverse navel done. In between that time period I got an industrial piercing that semi-freaked out my mom (and which she made me remove after its refusal to heal in three months), and a tongue piercing that REALLY freaked out my parents. I didn’t intend to tell them about the tongue because I knew I could have gotten away with hiding it from them. But despite how “scary” I look with metal through my eyebrow I’m really quite a nice daughter, so I let them know that I had metal through my tongue. I expected them to chalk it up to pre-graduation jitters like they did with my eyebrow but nooo. It got so bad that my mom stormed into my dorm room the next day to give me a lengthy lecture on why a tongue piercing unhealthy and unpleasant and overall bad. When I insisted on taking my chances on the health risks, she told me that my dad refused to see or talk to me until I remove my tongue piercing.

I took out the barbel the next day.

I’ve been itching to get something new on my face as a way to mark the new year, so I asked my mom if I can has a side lip piercing. Unsurprisingly, she said no, but I wasn’t about to drop the issue without a fight. When I asked her why not, she gave me the following reasons:

If I get another facial piercing I will be avoided like the lepers in Jerusalem during whatever year Jesus was born.

“Facial piercings will attract weirdos and will drive decent people away,” my mom said. I argued that I’ve been a weirdo magnet even before I became a pincushion. As for “decent people”? Bah, “decent people” are quick to judge. Just because I have facial piercings doesn’t mean that I spend my spare time shooting heroin and doing everything that moves. I’m willing to bet a lot of money that I’m probably more moral, honest, and generous than all those goody-two-shoes type boys and girls who go to church every Sunday. Besides, if I ever decide to sell my soul to the materialist corporate world again, I can just get rid of the piercing before the job interview.

She does have a fairly valid point though. Assuming that I had a boyfriend who comes from a conservative family, he’d probably dread the day where I have to meet his parents. (Which is not to say that I’d allow myself to end up with someone who’d be ashamed to introduce me to his parents. I’d skewer his nuts with the barbel I used for my tongue piercing before he could ever get ashamed of me.) Girls who have lip piercings aren’t really the type you can take home to mom. Traditional Filipino parents like those girls who are meek like mice and who can’t live their own lives because their own parents won’t allow them to do what they want. I have a sneaking suspicion that if I weren’t my mom’s kid, she’d probably tell her children - especially the sons - to stay far far away from me as possible.

“I just don’t like the way people will treat you if you get any more piercings,” my mom explained.

Silence as I imagined all the looks women and little old church ladies will throw at me if I add more metal to my face. That look of horror mixed with disgust and curiosity as to what would drive such a pretty girl to “ruin her face” like that.

Everyone will think that my parents are bad parents.

“Trust me, it will break our hearts to see you with a lip piercing,” my mom said.

Nothing makes me give in and shut up like the guilt card.

“Not to mention the gossip that we are bad parents,” she added.

I couldn’t think of anything to say.

I’m not sure why old school Filipinos would come to the conclusion that whatever I do with my life is a reflection of how well (or how badly) my parents raised me. Maybe it’s our close family ties and the big say parents have over their childrens’ lives, even when their children are old enough to think for themselves. Maybe Filipinos still believe the Freudian theory that all adult neuroses are caused by parenting mistakes. In any case, I’d hate for anyone to think that I turned out “wrong” because my parents dropped me on the head as a baby.

Of all the bullshit things to teach children about life, none is more false than “It’s your inner beauty that counts.” Whether we like it or not, people will judge us by our appearances and will judge us harshly when we deliberately choose to cross the line between what’s acceptable and what isn’t. Even the West hasn’t gotten rid of stereotype that people who have piercings and tattoos are criminals or mentally unsound. I was slightly offended when a friend from the US thought I grew up a lot because I hadn’t gotten a weird hair color or a new piercing in months. (Since when was wanting to experiment with the way you look a sign of immaturity?) I’d probably get a lot worse than that from people here if I get any more metal on my face.

The thing is, it’s easy for me to be zen about the weird looks from strangers and the inevitable “What have you done to yourself? Bakit mo sinira mukha mo?” from conservative relatives. I really couldn’t care less about what other people think of the way I choose to look. What I do care about is preserving my relationships with the people who matter and making sure I do nothing to damage what we have. My relationship with my parents included. While I’d never allow my parents to make important life decisions for me, like what career path to take or who to marry, they can have their way with the little things. And if never getting another piercing makes them happy - well, so be it.

I still maintain that a lip piercing gives me 1,000 hotness points though.

“Perhaps in twenty years, Filipinos will become more progressive and open-minded about piercings,” my mom said, as though trying to make me feel better.

“Fine,” I grumbled. “I’ll get another facial piercing when I turn forty. At that age, I’m pretty sure nobody’s going to think I got my lip pierced because you toilet-trained me the wrong way or whatever.”

“Go ahead. But you’ll probably have your own kids by then, who’ll police you and ask you to stop trying to act like a teenager by getting all these facial piercings.”

Bah.