Put a Ring on It

Despite my hatred of most of the conventional aspects of marriage, I really like my wedding ring set.

I won’t change my name or raise a family, but I will accessorize in the name of love.

My rings are exactly what I wanted. Recycled (estate sale). White gold. And a low enough setting that I can wear them even on my dirtiest, clumsiest of days without fear of damage.

I haven’t been wearing them a lot lately though. I haven’t had them re-sized since I lost weight and they tend to spin around my finger in the most annoying fashion. On my bested, non-retaining days, I’m worried they might fall off.

But even if they did fit, I wouldn’t wear them on the hike. I would feel awful if they were stolen.

However, I do want something to signal I’m not available if people ever realize K and I are not a lesbian couple.

I salvaged this from a pile of junk jewelry my mother was going to give away. She doesn’t know who it belonged to, and already two diamond chips have fallen out. But when I want to tell a jerk to get lost, it gives me a different finger than the middle one to show.


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