Weddingbee Blog

Oh, it feels so good to have someone else state what you are secretly feeling. It’s not my ring that bothers me (although he did buy a more expensive designer ring becuase I pointed it out and that DOES bother me). Rather, it’s that I regret horribly how I behaved prior to the proposal. A lot of pouting and glaring and one really horrific fight where I ruined our otherwise magical anniversary. Why was I so obsessed with getting him to propose. Anyway, all that is just to say thanks for posting something I never feel comfortable talking about.

When we first started dating I told my new boyfriend not to ever, under any circumstances, buy me a ring. Of course, at the time I also thought I was never going to get married again being twice divorced already!

But when we started talking about it a few years later (read as: I started to change my stance on the whole 3rd times the charm thing) and decided to give it another go he actually asked if he was *allowed* to buy me a ring. lol

I’m a ring person, I have a small wardrobe of them and like to shop for more when I have the time. So he’s got permission, and he wants to do the proposal thing before we tell people, but I’ve told him no 2-months salary stuff and, really, it doesn’t even have to be a real diamond (I did have other requests, but that’s neither here nor there at the moment).

Since I felt guilty about the money that my fiance spent on the ring and since I didn’t see why I should be the only one to get something with the engagement, I bought him a top-of-the-line keyboard. (He’s a musician.) So, we both got something from the engagement, although he thinks that his gift is much more useful.

I originally wanted a big diamond. I’m materialistic in a lot of ways, and pretty unabashedly so: if I’m going to spend money on something, I don’t do it half-assed. I get what I really want. And I’ve always loved jewelry. So it seemed natural to go for a beautiful, large diamond.

But luckily for me, that was pretty early on in our relationship. As time passed I started to think more seriously about marriage, and since I identify as a fairly radical feminist, I started thinking about the symbolism involved. I didn’t like it. I felt like the engagement ring as a diamond ring plays into the notion of ownership and male dominance: can he afford me? Can he keep me in the style to which I have become accustomed? It wad abhorrent to me that some women might try to play the whose-rock-is-better game with me. I hated the idea of supporting a patriarchal structure with which I so vehemently disagree.

So when things got more serious I said so. I said I wanted a ring that made it obvious that I knew what should go there, and was deliberately refusing. My man didn’t like that much–he’s more sentimental than I am. So he ended up proposing with a ring that I wouldn’t have chosen, but that’s beautiful and cost fifty bucks. No rock.

I get crap about it from more traditional folks (like my family), but it reflects us. I chose my man because he’s a feminist, too, and it’s important to me that this wedding reflect our values and our beliefs. And the rest of the world can do it their way.

I have had many of the same feelings. I certainly don’t need my ring. But when we were considering engagement, I felt like I did.

Here’s where my feelings are now (and I’d encourage you to try to adopt the same acceptance). This relatively modest, beautiful ring that I don’t need but really really wanted not too long ago is a reminder of who I was then. I was an eager, excited girl celebrating a new chapter in my life. Now I’m a mellow, married girl who knows that the ring don’t mean a thing. But it’s our history that makes us who we are. And our histories just happen to include a ring.