“You should really wear a wedding ring. Especially when you are traveling.”
I had this said to me about a week ago by a random conference attendee.
I wanted to reply…
“Actually. My wife would rather me not masturbate in the hotel room tonight with a figment of my imagination flashing across 15″ of LCD than wear a wedding ring. Oh. And I also like to brag on her when people ask if I am married.”
I don’t wear a wedding ring.
Neither does my wife.
Because I have lost 4 of them now.
Wow. That was deep.
But after the 4th one Heather and I started talking about it.
Why do we wear them?
As some symbol of victory?
To tell the world “I’m taken!”
Because somebody back in 850 AD decided to start this tradition?
Out of respect?
I’ve too many relationships around me to be under the assumption that rings are somehow an indicator of “marriage”.
What shall we do?
We got a tattoo of each others signatures on our wrists.
Nah. That didn’t help. I was still the sinner of a man I was before Laguna Tattoo tagged me.
But it does look dope.
Better than your ring I must add.
I have an idea…
How about working your butt off in the trenches of marriage even when it hits the fan.
Even when you want out.
Even when they want out.
I have some friends whose marriage has been throughout the ringer and back.
And there is a look.
A look that sneaks into their eye when they are talking about the other.
That look is a stronger indicator of marriage than any really bad attempt of clever ring design ever will be.
Your wedding ring is no more an indicator that you are in a healthy marriage than your fake tan is an indicator that you are not white.
Oh. What’s that? Why doesn’t Heather wear one?
Because I had it cheaply made and it’s missing a few little diamonds so it looks like a smile missing a few teeth.
We are deep.
I’m not saying don’t wear a wedding ring.
I’m saying don’t place value in a metal object.
Instead fight well, heal well, kiss well, and live well.