The short answer? No. But let me back up.
I’m 20. I already have a nose piercing, it’s a tiny stud I got a little while ago that felt like this little act of defiance and delight all at once. Lately, I’ve been thinking about switching to a ring. Just a small one. Nothing flashy. But even now, with a literal hole already in my face, I catch myself wondering: Am I trying too hard? Will people think it’s too much? Is it… too extra?
And then the bigger, more ridiculous question creeps in: Am I too old for a nose ring?
Let me repeat: I’m 20.
Which is hilarious and horrifying at the same time, because what does that even mean? Too old for what? Self-expression? Jewelry? Changing your mind?
But this spirals into a bigger question I think a lot of people, especially women, queer folks, and anyone who's spent most of their life trying to be “appropriate,” quietly ask themselves. When do we stop being allowed to do things just because we want to? When does it become embarrassing to enjoy your own reflection or try something new?
And more importantly: who decides that?
Where the Want Comes From
I can’t even pinpoint when I first started wanting a nose piercing. Maybe it was seeing cool older girls on Tumblr with little hoops that looked like armor and softness all at once. There was something about the way the jewelry caught the light–delicate, but also defiant. I grew up seeing it as something edgy, maybe even rebellious, which, of course, made me want it more. It felt like a quiet statement that said, I know who I am, or at least I’m trying to find out.
But then I didn’t do it right away. There’s always a reason to wait—school, jobs, money, what my parents would say. And underneath all that, there was also fear. Not just fear of the needle or the permanence, but fear of stepping outside of the version of myself other people had gotten used to. The one who didn’t “do too much,” who kept things neutral and safe.
Now, a year or two later, I’m itching for something new. Not because I’m trying to reinvent myself, but because I want to be more me. I want my reflection to feel honest. I imagine that little silver ring sometimes and think: Yeah. That feels right. It’s not about chasing a trend or proving anything. It’s about honoring the quiet, persistent part of me that’s been whispering for years, you’re allowed to want this.
Age Isn’t the Problem — But Perception Is
I don’t actually think there’s a maximum age for anything, nose rings included. I’ve seen 50-year-olds absolutely rock a hoop. I’ve seen older folks get their first tattoo and look radiant. I genuinely believe anyone should wear what makes them feel strong, visible, or like themself.
But we live in a world that subtly (and not-so-subtly) tells people to age “gracefully,” which is really just a code word for “quietly.” That you're supposed to stop experimenting at a certain point. Stop being loud. Stop being visible in the “wrong” way. That if you’re older and still care about how you look or want to feel beautiful or interesting, it’s somehow desperate.
It’s such a trap. Because people spend their teens being told to tone it down and then hit 30 or 40 and get told it’s “too late” for all the things they were scared to try earlier. That’s so backwards.
What’s really holding people back isn’t age—it’s how we’ve been taught to see age. We internalize these quiet rules about what’s “appropriate,” and then judge ourselves through a lens that was never meant to celebrate individuality, only control it. So when someone older wears something bold, it’s not that it looks bad—it’s that we’ve been conditioned to see it as out of place. Not because it actually is, but because we’ve been told it should be.
Perception shapes everything. And more often than not, it’s not your outfit or your piercing that’s the issue—it’s the outdated story someone else is projecting onto you. But the good news? You don’t have to carry that story. You can write your own.
The Real Question: Who Is It Hurting?
I’ve asked myself, “What if people think I’m trying too hard?” But honestly, trying too hard at what? Feeling good in my own skin? Being happy?
There’s this strange pressure to make self-expression look effortless, like caring too much is embarrassing. But why? What’s wrong with putting effort into something that makes you feel more like yourself? If wearing a nose ring, dyeing your hair, or switching up your style brings you joy, why should that be seen as some kind of weakness?
If someone wants a nose ring at 20, or 40, or 72, how is that anyone else’s business? It’s a tiny piece of jewelry that brings a spark of joy. If that spark lights something inside someone, I think that’s beautiful. We should be cheering each other on, not gatekeeping age-appropriateness.
Besides, what does “trying too hard” even mean in a world that praises confidence but punishes visibility when it doesn’t come in the expected package? I’d rather be someone who tries—tries to live fully, to enjoy the body I’m in, to explore style without apology—than someone who regrets not trying because I was afraid of being judged.
I think there’s something quietly radical about choosing joy on purpose. About deciding that your expression doesn’t need to be justified by youth, trends, or approval. Just wanting it is enough.
Expression Isn’t a Phase
Style is fluid. Identity is fluid. Even confidence is fluid. Some days I look in the mirror and feel invincible, like I could walk into any room and be exactly who I am, unapologetically. And other days? I can’t even look at myself at all. I think that’s more common than people admit. Piercings, haircuts, and clothing aren’t just aesthetics. They’re little rituals. They’re ways of claiming space in a world that sometimes tries to make you feel small or invisible.
They can say, I’m still here. I’m still changing. I still matter.
A nose ring doesn’t have to mean anything profound, but sometimes it does. Sometimes it’s a soft defiance against shame or self-doubt. Sometimes it’s a reminder that you’re allowed to take up space. To make visible choices for yourself, just because you want to.
For me, the ring I sometimes want isn’t a rebellion—it’s a quiet, personal affirmation. A step closer to the person I’ve been becoming, slowly and intentionally. It’s not about impressing anyone or chasing trends. It’s about being able to look at my reflection and think, yeah, that looks like me. Not someone else’s version of me. Just…me.
And honestly, that feeling, that flicker of alignment between who you are inside and how you show up outside, is worth everything.
So, Am I Too Old?
No.
And neither are you. Whether you’re 20 like me and just figuring this stuff out, or decades ahead with a hundred other stories under your belt, if you want a nose ring, get the nose ring. If it makes you feel more like yourself, that’s reason enough.
The older I get (and I know, 20 isn’t exactly ancient or anything), the more I realize how silly it is to limit ourselves based on what strangers might think. Life is short and weird and complicated. Joy is hard-won. If a little piece of metal in your nose helps you feel something–confident, strong, playful, you–then do it. Ignore all of the potential naysayers, who knows maybe they’re just projecting their own issues with their image onto you.
And honestly? No matter what a nose ring might symbolize (or not symbolize), you’ll look great.
