Rings are symbols. Their circular shape carries a lot of meaning, symbolizing a bond and the love that goes on and on with no end.
Engagement rings are the same, complete with a promise for the future; a foreshadowing of what is to become. Normally this is a very good thing. It's a very happy time.
But not always.
Some say that everything rests in the actual proposal. Some say what really matters is the ring itself.
Personally, I think what truly matters is your relationship. The rest of it is, as they say, window-dressing. Then, an engagement is a happy time or...a mistake. Quite possibly, the first sign of true trouble you'd been trying to ignore.
When I was proposed to, I had actually been asleep. Or half asleep. I was woken by a cool ring being slipped onto my finger. Note: I was asleep, we were in a car driving back to my college after a break, and the ring was placed on my finger before I ever said yes. Before I had even been properly asked.
He was really assuming a hell of a lot.
Then again, some of that had been my fault. We'd talked about getting married for a long time. We'd been together for about four years. I suppose it was assumed.
I had also assumed.....
Until the moment I opened my eyes to this diamond on my hand.
I hid my head in his arm as he asked, "Hey.....will you marry me?"
I hid because the ring and the question did not make me excited. I didn't immediately scream YES! and then throw my arms around him. I didn't cry tears of joy (at that point, I hadn't even experienced those yet.) I didn't even look up at him and grin.
Instead, I found myself staring down at this gorgeous, sparkly ring....only filled with apprehension. A shaky sense that something was not quite right.
And that feeling terrified me.
Why didn't I shout yes right away? Why was I thinking only crap and what is everyone going to say about this now? But he was expecting an answer. I had to give one, the right one. But what was the right answer?
Well, I was trapped in a car which was currently speeding down the road for another hour and a half and there was apparently only one answer anticipated. So, I did what was expected of me. I choked out "yes" and tried to ignore the feelings of discontent lodged in my stomach. I pushed them away, trying to convince myself that they were just nerves and nothing more and then set about telling everyone we knew.
The ring never really fit.
That should have been a clear sign, an omen of sorts. But I was prone to sweeping bothersome issues under the metaphorical rug.
So I didn't really pay attention to those little telling signs around me. Like, that the ring kept falling off, being two sizes too large. Or that there never seemed to be time to get it re-sized. Or that the ring itself didn't even feel right.
It was not just the fact that I had to either wear it on a chain around my neck or hold it on my finger with a cheap plastic ring. It also managed to get caught or snagged on damn near everything. Or I'd almost scratch myself when resting my cheek on a fist. And, it just did not feel like....me.
It was sparkly, with gold bands and tiny diamonds on both sides leading up to a diamond in the middle, which was a bit bigger. It was beautiful, that much was true. But I felt like a fraud wearing it. Like a child playing dress up with Mommy's jewelry. It didn't belong with me, to me. It wasn't right.
And maybe, that was the clearest indication that something was not right with the relationship. A sign trying to show me what I already had secretly known and felt. I had known, about a month before, when one event shattered the pedestal I had placed him on. But I went on, sweeping it all into some dark corner of my heart and mind. Not something to think on.
And then, as if sensing my inner turmoil after the smoke cleared, the boy had produced a shiny ring. Which I accepted because I didn't feel as if I could do anything else. I didn't think that I really had a choice.
But the thing about life is....you always have choices. Every. Single. Day.
So time went by and I kept trying to ignore what was so obviously right in front of me all along. It took a sudden attraction for someone else for me to really see that yes.....something was obviously not right here. If it was okay, then why had I emotionally moved on without even noticing?
Still, I thought then that the something wrong was deep within me. That I was entirely to blame, that I was a horrible person. That I was a total flake, a stupid squiggle trying to fit into a square world and entirely incapable of having a long-term relationship.
I battled deep guilt. But all the while, the sense that this boy was most definitely not The One only grew as my feelings for another boy also grew. And the ring became a cumbersome weight around my neck.
My hair, somehow, became caught around the stone.
The metal hit my chest as I ran, reminding me with every step of its continued presence. That I hadn't escaped.
It smacked me in the face while I was bent over, drying my hair. A constant reminder.
The plastic ring I sometimes used to hold it on my finger suddenly snapped cleanly in half. My stomach dropped at blatant symbolism but I stubbornly tried to shrug it off as coincidence.
Then at last, another ring I had previously been given which I also tried to use to hold the diamond on with....suddenly vanished for a few days.
I finally stopped wearing it entirely. Because I knew. I knew deep in my heart, with every bit of me, that this was not right.
And I'd always truly known this. It had just taken awhile to see it for myself.
The final clue came in the form of a sweet old lady I'd met and talked to by chance at a dinner final for one of my classes.
We had been talking about life and she mentioned moving back to her hometown after her husband had passed away. She said she knew that was where she belonged and she'd known because something had felt off staying where they had built a life together. And she looked at me very seriously and said, "Because you always know, don't you, when something isn't right. You know when something just doesn't fit in your life and you need to change it.
Suddenly, I knew exactly what she meant. You always do know.
So I made a vow to myself....that the next time someone asks me to marry them (God willing that happens), I want to feel something. And not fear, nerves, apprehension, or dread. Nothing negative.
I want to feel so much joy it comes spilling out of my eyes as tears.
I want to throw my arms around the boy because I need to touch him.
I want to shout YES! even before he is finished asking, because I can't hold in that affirmation.
I want to know, deep in my heart and with every bit of me, that this is right. That he is The One.
And I want to say yes, not because there can't be any other answer, but because any other answer never even occurred to me.
And I'll only ever say yes if I truly know.
