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Abstract

ur low-rise jeans, because you were so edgy. A glow-in-the-dark neon multipack that came with interchangeable charms: so you could have a highlighter-yellow ball at the top, and a lime-green ball in your navel, or the reverse, because you were so eccentric.But, you eventually came back to me: the OG. The first belly ring you ever had. Many years later, here I am, still chilling in your belly skin, just waiting to be released again. And this time, hopefully for good.I know you love me, and I love you too. But as they say: “If you love something, let it go.” We had a good run. But it is time to set me free.Oh, girl. Or should I say woman? I must be frank. You’re a full grown adult now. You’re a lady. You’re in your mid thirties. I mean, people look at you and aren’t sure if they should call you “Miss” or “Ma’am” so they just say “Hello” and leave it at that.And no, this isn’t “ageism.” Let’s be honest here: when is the last time you even wore a bikini? One-piece bathing suits have been in style for years, and you’ve been sporting those as well as your modest tankinis since the first digit of your age was a 2.And no, this isn’t “body shaming” either. Think: when is the last time you wore any clothing that exposed your midriff? We both know you have a rockin’ hot mom bod, but that doesn’t mean you still need me hanging around bedazzling your hidden tummy.Let’s be real here, okay?

Options

Aren’t you tired of getting me caught in the top of your yoga pants?Aren’t you annoyed with gently scrubbing around me in the shower?Back then, you feared you’d need to pry me out with pliers when you got pregnant. But now, you know that would’ve been the least of your problems.Back then, you defied authority by wearing me. But now, you show your girl power by shutting down the men who interrupt you during work meetings.I know you love me, but is keeping me here still worth it for you?Oh, the nostalgia. We do have amazing memories together. I am honored that you still choose to wear me, but I wanted to invite you to think more critically about your decision.Look, I’m still here for you.Just remember my words the next time you adjust me, or glimpse at me in the mirror quickly as you get dressed, or cover me up with your high-rise jeans… because those are the jeans that are in style now.Know what else is in style now too, by the way? Tattoos. Just an idea.It’s time to spread your wings and fly, without my red rhinestone weighing you down.Kerry Webster Reynolds is a Massachusetts Creative Writing teacher who writes her own nonsense sometimes, occasionally demonstrating proficiency. Words: Points in Case, The Belladonna, Slackjaw, etc. Follow her! <a href="http://www.twitter.com/KWebbyRey">@KWebbyRey</a>.</article></body>

Belly Button Ring’s Plea To 36-Year-Old Woman Still Wearing Her: “It’s Time To Let Me Go.”

Real talk time, okay?

Look. You first got me when you were a 17-year-old junior in high school. Your mother begrudgingly accompanied you to the piercing parlor after you informed her that you’d go get your belly button pierced on your eighteenth birthday anyways because you’d be “an adult” then.

So, you got me: a shiny silver stud with a round red rhinestone.

And yes, you showed me off for years. When you wore crop tops in high school even though it was against the dress code. When you wore sports bras at cheerleading practice. When you dressed up as a slutty angel, a slutty cat, a slutty prisoner, and an actual prostitute at those college Halloween parties.

You switched me out with numerous replacements over the years. A pastel purple hoop with a playboy bunny in the center of the navel, because you were so badass. A long pink sparkly gem that dangled all the way to the waist of your low-rise jeans, because you were so edgy. A glow-in-the-dark neon multipack that came with interchangeable charms: so you could have a highlighter-yellow ball at the top, and a lime-green ball in your navel, or the reverse, because you were so eccentric.

But, you eventually came back to me: the OG. The first belly ring you ever had. Many years later, here I am, still chilling in your belly skin, just waiting to be released again. And this time, hopefully for good.

I know you love me, and I love you too. But as they say: “If you love something, let it go.” We had a good run. But it is time to set me free.

Oh, girl. Or should I say woman? I must be frank. You’re a full grown adult now. You’re a lady. You’re in your mid thirties. I mean, people look at you and aren’t sure if they should call you “Miss” or “Ma’am” so they just say “Hello” and leave it at that.

And no, this isn’t “ageism.” Let’s be honest here: when is the last time you even wore a bikini? One-piece bathing suits have been in style for years, and you’ve been sporting those as well as your modest tankinis since the first digit of your age was a 2.

And no, this isn’t “body shaming” either. Think: when is the last time you wore any clothing that exposed your midriff? We both know you have a rockin’ hot mom bod, but that doesn’t mean you still need me hanging around bedazzling your hidden tummy.

Let’s be real here, okay?

Aren’t you tired of getting me caught in the top of your yoga pants?

Aren’t you annoyed with gently scrubbing around me in the shower?

Back then, you feared you’d need to pry me out with pliers when you got pregnant. But now, you know that would’ve been the least of your problems.

Back then, you defied authority by wearing me. But now, you show your girl power by shutting down the men who interrupt you during work meetings.

I know you love me, but is keeping me here still worth it for you?

Oh, the nostalgia. We do have amazing memories together. I am honored that you still choose to wear me, but I wanted to invite you to think more critically about your decision.

Look, I’m still here for you.

Just remember my words the next time you adjust me, or glimpse at me in the mirror quickly as you get dressed, or cover me up with your high-rise jeans… because those are the jeans that are in style now.

Know what else is in style now too, by the way? Tattoos. Just an idea.

It’s time to spread your wings and fly, without my red rhinestone weighing you down.

Kerry Webster Reynolds is a Massachusetts Creative Writing teacher who writes her own nonsense sometimes, occasionally demonstrating proficiency. Words: Points in Case, The Belladonna, Slackjaw, etc. Follow her! @KWebbyRey.