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  • My engagement ring was the most beautiful and expensive thing I had ever owned. It suddenly felt like I had joined a club of women who were now comfortable enough to talk marriage in front of me and ask for advice, as though being in a relationship for 5 years already somehow rendered me inexperienced to discuss these things before.

    The ring still sparkled in the awful lights and oppressing crowds of the 6 train. It inspired creative and varied photo-shoots with my Nikon and the newly acquired macro lens. It suddenly made me feel like I had something worth stealing and thus, made me more cautious while roaming the streets of NYC at odd hours, after all night study sessions in grad school. This fear made me turn the ring around, diamond side in, revealing only the band which in turn, made it look like a wedding band. I swear, that felt different. The ring that would come next, felt different. Rings seem to assign value to the person wearing them while showing where you are in your life journey. The journey that is supposed to go only one way, forward.

    Linear. Organized. Predictable.


    I am none of these things. I preferred to play with Legos instead of those dolls which look like babies. Unlike my entire family, I do not believe having children is a requirement of marriage. I get bored living in one place over a year. I think most weddings are trite and I was stumped when trying to plan my own, as nothing seemed original.

    I couldn't do it. Not just for the reasons above but for many, many more. Perhaps, that is a story for another week. Most of all, I knew that the life and joy represented by the sparkling thing on my hand needed to be in my heart as well.

    Until I got engaged I never wore any rings on my ring finger. It was a contradictory belief given my nontraditional views, but I wanted at least something to feel sacred. When I called off the engagement before the big announcement, I wore a pretty but fake glass and metal ring to the office for a week. Same finger, different ring. I felt as though there should be a step in the middle, before nothing at all. And then, there was nothing.

    Actually, now there is everything. Two years later, I wear funky, odd sized and colorful rings on any finger I choose. The ring finger did indeed lose its sacred status. Rings are after all, just baubles if they have no meaning to you. This does not mean that there is no sparkle now. I am with someone who makes rings seem trite as well. And while there is no sparkle on my hand, and maybe will never be again, now that sparkle is in my eye, when I look at him.

    Week 2 of 52 - Story a Week in 2014
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