My rings. My beautiful, sparkling, eye catching, comment worthy rings.
I only got to wear them legitimately for 46 days. How much does that suck? Even though I’m no longer somebody’s wife “technically”, they’re still there on my finger. Because I said I do, because they remind me of him, because I love them and him so much, because I feel robbed of the opportunity to be a proper wife and because I’m not ready to acknowledge that I’m no longer married, “technically”.
I still look at them and think WOW because they’re beautiful. But they symbolise something that no longer exists. I’ve taken them off for a few minutes but I feel naked without them. It hasn’t felt right. It makes this even more official, that I no longer have a husband.
I’ve taken an engagement ring off permanently before, at the end of a relationship and it’s different. So different. I was glad not to have a band on my finger that told the world I was taken. Taking that ring off set me free from the crappy person I’d fallen into a union with. Taking that ring off was like singing from the rooftops about finally being free from the thing holding me back. It was glorious.
This though, this is different. Taking a wedding ring off when you’re a widow is not the same as taking a ring off through separation or divorce. Even if you split amicably, separation is nothing like widowhood.
I don’t want to be husbandless. I want my husband back. I didn’t choose this fate. I want to wear my rings and let the world know I’m taken, because I am. I’m married. To a dead man.
It’s been 8mths since he left me here alone. Being a taken woman minus her husband is shit. The rings thing has been playing on my mind for a while now. Do they hinder me moving forward because I’m still attached to the past?
If I take them off, I’m officially acknowledging that I am no longer married to the man I love in the way I want to be and up until now, that wasn’t ok but I’m nearly there. Nearly. I do however reserve the right to put them back on when and if I feel the need. They’re mine, this is my grief and my journey, I’ll do it my way.
My wedding ring is actually a family heirloom. My great grandfather was a jeweller and made it by hand for my great grandmother. It was passed to my nan, who gave it to my mum who gave it to me. So it’s special and has generations of family love attached to it. This will be part of it’s story too.
I am remodelling my engagement ring into something else to wear on another finger. It symbolises a beautiful and loving time in my life, so that makes sense to me.
It’s not going anywhere, it’s just being transformed. Like me.