Becoming a Woman

Note: This post is not intended for impressionable readers under 18!

Today was the day that marked my official passage from angst-ridden, rebellious young woman to mature adult. I took my belly-button ring out today.

I had known for a while that this day would come, and figured that it would be a proper trade-off. I mean, I'm growing a human being inside of me. It's time to let the tiny piece of jewelry meet the same fateful demise as 2 am Taco Bell binges with my Roomie after wearing matching miniskirts and chain belts to the Grad and dancing all night. But that didn't mean that I wasn't sad about it. About a year ago, I told Sean that I was going to take it out, for good. "Why?" he said. "It's kinda cool". Then last night I realized that my tummy was starting to grow, and the ring didn't look too happy to be growing with it. After consulting my handy book about all things knocked-up, I discovered that it is advised to remove "body jewelry" in the third or fourth month. Oops. I'm officially done with month 3, and on to month 4, so there wasn't much time left before that shiny ring started knocking my baby in the noggin or something. When I came upstairs to announce this new deadline to Sean, he replied "Good. You're about to be a mom. It's a little ridiculous that you have a belly ring". Great. Thanks.

Some of you may be reading this thinking "What???? I never knew that Kim had a belly ring?!". For those of you who I have horrified beyond belief, I'm very sorry. Including my mother, who knew about the ring, wasn't exactly pleased, and is probably mortified that all of my New Jersey in-laws now know what a bad kid I used to be :) But this is my journal people....for better or for worse!

I got the piercing when I was 19, and in my freshman year of college. I have always been terrified of needles, and would make it a point to cry and pass out on the floor whenever I had blood drawn. I was a good kid, and never got in very serious trouble. When friends were getting tattoos (ahem...Tucker's Dad?!) I was the one cautioning them on making decisions that would last for a lifetime. My own Dad even told me once that I would never get a job after high school if I had more than one piercing in each ear (I went on to get four more holes!). But Freshman year was full of trials and triumphs, unexpected pain and amazing new friendships. I decided that I had been through some tough times, and wanted to do something to prove to myself that I was strong. You know, pain that I could choose. My friend Chris and I drove to Morro Bay (about 30 minutes from our little college town, it was the closest thing to an "alternative" town that we had). I decided that it was the day, and Chris thought he'd show how tough he was and get an ear cartilage piercing. He ended up crying, I didn't.

I suppose that this trip down memory lane is purely self-indulgent. A chance for me to reminisce about where I've been, and where I'm going. I was always a fairly "good girl", with this little secret piercing that reminded me how tough I could be. Today, my belly button looks a little, well...naked. I guess it's meant for growing babies now, and I can't say I mind one bit. But I'll always have the little scar that will whisper that Tucker's mommy had an interesting life growing up, one filled with courage and great things, that's only going to grow as she grows, and get better with age.