|Stock photo: Not my actual engagement ring.|
I'm not very sentimental about stuff. Or at least not about the things that women are supposed to be sentimental about. Like my wedding ring. I know that's really weird and that makes me a defective female. Trust me, I totally get it.
Let me explain...
First, you should know I'm stubborn. Second, I know what I like. And third, I'm quiet and I don't talk much, but when and if I do express an opinion you should STFU and listen. Chances are I won't repeat myself. Because I hate repeating myself. And lastly, I'M A JOY TO BE MARRIED TO! But, I'm sure you've figured that out already.
I never wanted a diamond ring.
I'm not a diamond girl. I'm sure I said that to my now husband at least once before we got engaged. And he got me a big beautiful diamond ring that he worked his ass off waiting tables while also working his way through college to buy for me. Crap. While I totally appreciated the generous token and it was gorgeous, it just wasn't me. Thankfully, I was more tactful in my twenties than I am now. So I shut my mouth and wore a big fancy ring that I got caught on everything.
Until I got the 7 year itch.
It was our 7th anniversary and we were living in Hawaii when I had my opportunity. My husband was snorkeling (or surfing) when his wedding ring slipped off his finger in the cold ocean water. It wasn't even his original wedding band, he'd lost that scrubbing in for a medical procedure in medical school (unless it was residency). Whatever it was, the charade was officially over.
A replacement was in the works.
On our 7th anniversary I got my husband a nice new replacement for the replacement wedding band. I even had it engraved in Dutch because we met in Holland. It was my finest sentimental moment. Except that I also had ulterior motives. He was shocked when I gave it to him because I'm a really shitty gift giver. "But, I didn't get you anything." Oh but you did. And I gave him a plain silver band to match his to give to me. And that's when I stopped wearing my original rings because I'm a horrible person. But, it's also precisely when I stopped snagging my clothes and everything in the path of my ginormous stress inducing ring.
Our marriage was perfect now.
Except that it wasn't, because it never is. But, I was definitely more comfortable now. And I didn't feel like I had to keep up appearances anymore. And by that I mean pushing back my cuticles. But, I also mean in our marriage. Which I acknowledged quite publicly by writing my memoir about how imperfect my marriage is including details about what a pain in the ass I am to be married to. And now after 24 years together we've found the perfect solution to our (ring) problems.
A rubber band.
My husband ordered himself a silicone wedding ring (actually a cheap 5 pack of them). A safer choice for when he was working on cars and/or house projects. (Which is all the time.) Pole dance has some hazards of its own. Like using oil to get your ring off your finger so as not to scratch the pole makes it really slippery and hard to grip the pole. So I asked him to order me some too.
The perfect symbol for our marriage.
...because this will neither corrode nor biodegrade.
Not to mention cheap so we can save money for new windows, good wine, college and lots more travel.