These are my musings and observations on my daily life, loves and the laughter that are all a part of my experience of living now in the shires of England.

Tuesday, 10 April 2012

The ring ...

I have worn jewellery before. There were always reasons why I wore it. Then just as valid reasons why I stopped wearing it.

I think the first ring I ever wore was an eternity ring given to me by my teenage love. He was such a kind sweetheart, I tried to feel the same way about him as he obviously did about me, but not even wearing the ring he’d worked so hard to buy changed my deepest feelings.

Then I had my own jewellery of rebellion.

My father and my church objected to it. I objected to them. I chose my gold chain and my ring with care. However, I soon discarded them as well.

The heaviest ring I wore was an engagement ring that I accepted from a man who was convinced that I was the one for him. I wore it as I tried to convince myself that this was the right thing to do. Luckily, not even the diamonds carefully placed in the band of gold could make me comfortable in that situation. It ended.

When I had a civil ceremony with my now ex-partner she bought us both bands of gold. They, like that relationship, never sat well with me for a long time. In an attempt to make things more acceptable I wore my new band with a gold band I had inherited – my brother told me it was our mother’s wedding ring. The two gold bands sat together on my hand for a short while but they never seemed to rest well: I fiddled with them constantly. They were always on the move ... and soon so was I.

I still have those rings – in separate boxes – as a reminder of my mother and another bad union.

This chronology of jewellery wearing is almost at an end. There have been some beautiful gifts that I still like to wear on the odd occasion, ones that bring back pleasant memories and wonderful times, ones that fit me well for a time before I feel the need to remove them again and replace them in covered boxes.

But on the whole I remain ring and bracelet free.

I remained unused to jewellery for decades. It wasn’t for me, not really.

This changed recently.

In a moment of deep connection I was gifted a ring. It was gently slipped onto my finger. At first it felt uncomfortable because I was unused to it. It was an unexpected act but it brought with it a sense of easy calm. At first I thought I would not be able to wear it – knowing my personal history with rings and the like, but a few hours later as the warmth of the loving gift settled in my being I realised that it was the most comfortable piece of jewellery that I had ever worn – it was already a part of my identity.

Suddenly I re-recognised that everything that had happened was now crowned with the ring of truth. It is right there – on my hand, speaking about who I really am.  It’s true. The ring said so.

Now I don’t ever want to be parted from the ring or the woman who gave it to me.

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