I lost my claddagh ring this past week, and it's having far more of an impact on my life than I thought it would. Despite the fact that it was bought for me by my ex-husband as a wedding ring, I kept it when we broke up, and simply moved it to the appropriate hand and position for being single. Partially, this was because what he paid for it was a small fraction of what he had borrowed from me in the brief time we were together, but mostly because...
I am pretty serious about my financial independence. I try not to obsess about money, but staying out of debt (other than student loans) is very important to me, and I do my best to split things evenly, even though my gentleman makes literally twice what I do right now. I do not want to take advantage of other people, financially, the way other people have taken advantage of me, in the past. I don't like accepting expensive gifts, and I certainly don't like asking for things.
But.... despite its origin, despite the annoyance of the design getting caught on everything, despite everything... that claddagh was the first expensive, high-quality piece of jewelry that someone else thought I was worth the price. I didn't have to ask for it, he wouldn't let me get a cheaper one (although it was still plain, by my preference); he insisted that I get the ring I wanted, regardless of the price. It was the most expensive thing I'd gotten something without worrying about the cost, and without worrying that someone was doing it for any other reason than that they could afford to do something that would make me happy. Even if that person turned out to be not so nice in the end, that feeling lived on in the ring.
Maybe it's silly to think so, since I'm Scots, and not Irish anyway. Maybe it's foolish to be attached to a thing, instead of eschewing materialism. I've tried telling myself a hundred times this week that I don't wear jewelry anyway, reminding myself of all the times it got caught on things, how annoying it could be, being loose in the winter and tight in the summer... but I still miss it. It meant a lot to me. And I don't think I can replace that.
I am pretty serious about my financial independence. I try not to obsess about money, but staying out of debt (other than student loans) is very important to me, and I do my best to split things evenly, even though my gentleman makes literally twice what I do right now. I do not want to take advantage of other people, financially, the way other people have taken advantage of me, in the past. I don't like accepting expensive gifts, and I certainly don't like asking for things.
But.... despite its origin, despite the annoyance of the design getting caught on everything, despite everything... that claddagh was the first expensive, high-quality piece of jewelry that someone else thought I was worth the price. I didn't have to ask for it, he wouldn't let me get a cheaper one (although it was still plain, by my preference); he insisted that I get the ring I wanted, regardless of the price. It was the most expensive thing I'd gotten something without worrying about the cost, and without worrying that someone was doing it for any other reason than that they could afford to do something that would make me happy. Even if that person turned out to be not so nice in the end, that feeling lived on in the ring.
Maybe it's silly to think so, since I'm Scots, and not Irish anyway. Maybe it's foolish to be attached to a thing, instead of eschewing materialism. I've tried telling myself a hundred times this week that I don't wear jewelry anyway, reminding myself of all the times it got caught on things, how annoying it could be, being loose in the winter and tight in the summer... but I still miss it. It meant a lot to me. And I don't think I can replace that.
