Fourteen years ago, my partner, Alex, completely astonished me by proposing with a stunning diamond ring that sparkled like no other. Naturally, my response was an enthusiastic “Yes! Yes! Yes!” as I bounced with joy. I was deeply in love and thrilled at the prospect of building a life together, feelings that have only grown stronger over time.
However, that breathtaking engagement ring? It has been nestled in a jar of jewelry cleaner for the past year or perhaps longer. Honestly, I haven’t checked on it in ages because my attachment to the ring has faded significantly.
In the early days, it was hard to envision a moment when I wouldn’t wear that ring. For many years, I kept it on my finger at all times. I cherish the memories of Alex’s covert excursions to the jewelry store before he proposed, how he skillfully selected the perfect ring by paying attention to my tastes and preferences. It reminds me of our carefree youth, a time before responsibilities like mortgages, children, and health concerns took center stage.
Lately, however, the thought of selling that ring has crossed my mind. To be clear, Alex and I are incredibly happy together. Perhaps it’s because our relationship feels more secure than ever that I find myself considering parting with the ring that marked the beginning of our marriage. The ring no longer represents who I am, nor does it reflect our current relationship.
I’ve never held strong beliefs about rings being a necessary symbol of commitment. Alex hasn’t worn his wedding band since shortly after our wedding, and honestly, I couldn’t care less. He dislikes jewelry altogether, so asking him to wear something that causes discomfort seems unnecessary and unkind.
Moreover, I see the ring as an extravagant use of resources. It doesn’t fit comfortably on my finger anymore (thanks to hormonal changes), and considering the questionable practices of the diamond industry, it feels distasteful. Although the De Beers cartel’s influence has waned, and diamonds can now be certified as conflict-free, my doubts about the industry’s ethics persist.
More importantly, I’ve evolved. I now prioritize generosity over material possessions. I lean towards minimalism and prefer experiences over things. When I consider how many people could be nourished with the value of that ring, I feel compelled to sell it immediately.
Recently, Alex and I discussed our wedding rings. He playfully mentioned that his ring has been lost, and we joked about me misplacing mine. Given that we pay insurance premiums each year for a ring I seldom wear, it seems rather ridiculous to hold onto it.
“Why don’t we just sell it?” I suggested. “We could use that money for meaningful causes like supporting the ACLU or helping a refugee family.”
“It’s your call,” Alex replied. “But I’m fully supportive of selling it. We could replace it with something simple and practical that truly reflects who we are today.”
That idea sounds appealing, but when I contemplate the act of selling it, I question whether I would regret letting go of a symbol of our past. Would I miss wearing such a beautiful piece of jewelry?
While I don’t attribute much significance to rings as tokens of marital bliss, I acknowledge that Alex and I are both secure, happy, and committed to each other in ways that transcend a piece of metal. Our priorities have shifted significantly; we value helping others more than we do material possessions. My engagement ring, once a symbol of my identity, doesn’t hold the same meaning for me anymore. I feel much more at ease wearing my simple wedding band, which cost only a few hundred dollars.
Yet, I must admit, there’s a part of me that hesitates—a hint of nostalgia and perhaps a bit of selfishness. My engagement ring is the only tangible reminder of Alex’s proposal, and with no photos or other mementos from that day, it carries sentimental weight. It represents a time when our future felt full of endless possibilities, a stark contrast to the chaos of parenting and adulthood.
But as it currently sits neglected at the bottom of a cleaning jar, perhaps my “fairy tale” has shifted from one of romance to a vision of adventure and shared dreams for the future. I’m still undecided about the fate of my diamond engagement ring, but one thing is clear: whether adorned with rings or not, Alex and I affirm our love for one another daily, a bond far stronger than any precious stone can symbolize.
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Summary
The author reflects on her long-standing marriage and the sentimentality tied to her engagement ring, which she has neglected for years. Despite enjoying a happy and committed relationship, she considers selling the ring as her values have shifted towards minimalism and philanthropy. The piece explores how priorities change over time, and ultimately, love and partnership transcend material symbols.
Keyphrase
Marriage without rings
Tags
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