I had no idea what kind of wedding ring I wanted. I can probably not tell a diamond from cubic zirconia, and I marvel at those pickpockets who manage to rob people of their expensive jewellery. I marvel because they can tell the difference – many times they’ll go for the gold and leave the fake jewellery. All I knew was that I wanted a yellow gold uncommon ring – not the white gold. Tee was responsible for going in-store to search for rings and send me pictures, while I trawled the internet for the perfect ring.
Every time I showed my sister a picture of a potential ring wondering if I’ll like it, she said “Whichever one you choose, you’ll love it. It’s your ring”.
She was right. Eventually, we agreed on the ring. Design: Check; Yellow Gold: Check; Price: Check.
Okay, on to the lessons.
Most mornings when I slip on my wedding ring into my ring finger on my left hand, I feel a quick sense of pride. Like it just whiffs past. I say most mornings because on some mornings I feel some sort of discomfort – when the ring gets kinda stuck midway. That can only mean one thing cant it? – Someone’s fingers are getting fatter. Hmmmm. I try to force it in sometimes. No luck. Only when I gently nudge and twist it in does it fit.
I make a conscious effort to wear my ring every day. On a few occasions when I have been upset (and he is the reason), I have actually consciously considered leaving it behind. The sparkling diamonds, almost begin to seem dull at that point. Rather thankfully, I often go back to my dressing table, find the rings and consciously put them on.
On the odd day I forget my ring at home because I’ve left the house in a frenzy, I feel a tad bit incomplete. Like something is missing. And maybe something is actually missing. I compare this to the first few of months of marriage when the ring still felt foreign, and I could take it off at the slightest opportunity without any feelings of incompleteness.
When Tee sees me struggling to fit the ring in as described above, he often talks about re-sizing the ring. I know that he is not referring to making it a size smaller. And while I hope we never have to, it may happen. I just may outgrow this ring. Or better still, we may just buy another ring. Still yellow gold, please. Thank you.
I once saw a photo of a ring with a tiny tiny diamond. and the caption was ‘Ladies if your man proposed to you with this ring, will you accept?’. I tease Tee often that my engagement ring was actually smaller than that ring on the photo and I accepted. But he was still a student, and I wasn’t even expecting any proposal. (We all know he did this to hold me down now – As a sharp guy!). Just before the wedding, a friend said to me ‘Ah now you are getting married, you can change this your ring’, and I thought ‘Why’? I couldn’t care so much if we changed it. The only reason I’ll care a little is that it was white gold and I wanted yellow gold. And I let her know of that fact. Whatever ring I decided to wear was between the hubs and I. No third parties opinion.
Writing this post on my way home, I took off the ring to inspect it and wondered if, as it’s almost two years now it needed a bit of a shine. A bit of polishing. Reviving. To ensure it keeps shinning.
Finally, in the midst of all the ring shopping, my mum mentioned that we don’t seem to be fussed about Tee’s ring? I replied that he just wanted something simple. He’ll literally walk to the store and pick a simple yellow band. Shikena*. And that’s the way it is. I’m not sure of any man who fussed about his wedding ring.
Ultimately, when I look at my ring, I feel a sense of pride that I married a good man. Thanks for being awesome Tee (91.6 % of the time!).
Your turn: Married? What does your ring mean to you? (Not bondage I hope). Single: Do you have an idea what kind of ring you want?. Share your ring tales!
pS: Can someone please recommend finger exercises. I’m not quite ready to resize this ring!
Shikena* – means ‘finished’, ‘the end’ or ‘period’ in Hausa Language.