Dorothy had it right: There’s no place like home.
I’ve been home in the U.S. for about six weeks, and it finally feels normal. I’ve eaten my fix of barbecue and Twizzlers, gotten used to Atlanta traffic again, and become reacquainted with summer humidity. All is right in the world.
I’m also getting in the swing of fiancéd life. I got engaged back in February, and as I had written two years prior, I did not require an engagement ring on my hand, nor did I get a necklace. It is possible to be engaged without jewelry.
But now I can report on the effects of going ring-less. Some common reactions:
“Oh, I see. You’re not seriously engaged.”
“Don’t worry. I’m sure your fiancé will get you a big ring later.”
“Aren’t you tired of people asking where your ring is?” (Ironic.)
I’m not surprised, really. I shouldn’t be. I’m thinking of just wearing a Ring Pop at this point to throw people off the scent.
Explaining why I don’t want a ring has not been so fun, but I’ve loved the benefits. People don’t look at my hand when they meet me. I’ve begun a new job since I returned to the U.S., and my coworkers didn’t know my marital status simply from a glance at my finger. It’s nice to have the information to myself until I choose to share it with others. I like the power of keeping my personal life personal.
Lastly, people ask about the feelings of my fiancé. Doesn’t he want me to follow tradition and wear a diamond? At first, he asked me if he could get me a ring, since he knows my feelings on it. I repeatedly said no. Now, he has gotten a whole lot more comfortable with the idea, conceding that yes, this money could be better spent other places, like a mortgage on a house.
I’m not bothered that most other women wear an engagement ring; my ring-less finger isn’t meant to call anyone out. I just feel we should all be able to choose what we want, whether that be ring or necklace or nothing at all.