This past week, I heard of the passing of famed photographer, Frank Horvat, at the age of 92. I came ...
I am so grateful to be in an incredibly loving marriage with my soulmate. But ironically, I have no interest in wearing my wedding ring. At least that’s the way it’s been for the past couple of years. Yes, my ring finger has been “al fresco” for a while now. My 22nd wedding anniversary comes up next month and for the first of those 20 years, I did wear it all the time, except for when I slept and when I played the piano. And while my enthusiasm and commitment to being married has remained strong, the same cannot be said about wearing the ring.
Why do I need to wear a ring to symbolize my love for my partner? I know it deep in my heart and that’s good enough. I don’t need a physical reminder of that.
From a practical sense, I was always fearful of losing it. Once, I ferociously whipped my hand towards my bed (just for fun) and the ring went flying off. I got it resized and it still was in danger of escaping my hand.
Years ago, I read a book called Searching for El Dorado, by Mark Herman. It chronicled how gold mining negatively impacted a community within the Amazonian rainforest in Guyana. I picked up the book in the lending library of a cruise ship – what a paradox it was to read such a poignant book in such a decadent surrounding. Way back then in 1999, it got me thinking…why do I wear this gold ring? It took me 18 years to finally say no more. (BTW, I have not been on a cruise since.)
Fast forward to today and I’m reading the novel, Less, by Andrew Sean Greer. The main character is grocery shopping and a ring that his lover has gifted him has slipped off his finger and gotten lost in the abyss of a pile of mushrooms. It reminded me today why I’m happy that I don’t have to deal with that constant worry. The character wore the ring to impress his lover. I’m happy I don’t have to impress my soulmate. She no longer wears her wedding ring either BTW.
Since it has been some time since I’ve worn it, I often think that I should sell it. The money could go to something more worthwhile, something towards my well-being or a donation to a worthy cause. But I’ve hesitated. I’m not sure why. It could be superstition. It could be trepidation for letting go of something that was an intrinsic part of my everyday life for so many years. For now, the ring sits idly by in a corner of a drawer I rarely visit.
We’ll see it if it goes anytime soon…not sure yet. One thing is for sure I don’t see myself starting to wear it again…and that’s okay. I know I would have said “I do” regardless.