Well Being

The Wedding Ring Thing Redux

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The Wedding Ring Thing Redux 87799848 300x200 jpg

photo: Thinkstock

Last week I wrote a post about my choosing not to wear a wedding ring ever since I got married in 2005. You can read it here.

Now I have a problem. Last week, before Blisstree even published my post, after five years of marriage, and without even having had the slightest idea that I was writing about wedding rings, or marriage, or us, my husband did something terrible: He gave me a ring. I’m not kidding. Apparently, he had enlisted a jewelry designer friend of his to make the ring, and they had been covertly in cahoots for months. It was supposed to arrive in time for Valentine’s Day (okay, who are you and what have you done with my husband?), but was delayed by a few weeks. As my husband presented this strange, round, smooth, silvery object to me, he said that he hoped I liked it, but that he knew how I felt about the whole wedding ring thing, so there was no pressure for me to wear it. (See: “who are you and what have you done with my husband?,” above.)

Since last week’s post, you’ve responded to us with some pretty interesting stories of your own. One of you said that the whole wedding ring thing is nothing compared to the abject humiliation you’ve suffered as a result of not ever having or wearing an engagement ring. (Okay, we added “abject humiliation” for effect, but you get the idea.) Another reader wrote that if I’m concerned about my mother-in-law’s view of the whole wedding ring thing, how do I think her parents and in-laws react to the fact that, despite one house, two kids, and several cats, she’s been unmarried to her male partner for 18 years? (Wow, she’s got me beat, though at least they wear matching bands.) And one of you admitted that you’d never even thought about wearing a wedding ring, because you were positive you’d never get hitched. (Turns out, you were wrong.)

So now what? I have this ring. A wedding ring. I have never had or wanted one. It’s a simple, white gold band. Thankfully, it’s a little big, so even if I do decide to wear it, I’ll have to get it re-sized – a process which buys me some time to make a decision. I kept my name. Should I keep this ring? I’m a total fraud. And a hypocrite. The worst part is that I actually like the stupid thing. But I don’t want to put it on just because society tells me to, or just so I can reassure the world that I’m not a spinster with 17 cats. It is a really pretty ring, though.