The Ring (AKA Wear It Well)

I have a confession to make.

I still wear my wedding ring. Alot. And I'm not just talking about when I'm at home alone and there's nobody around to see it. I put it on when I go out -- whether it's to the gym, the mall or the grocery store. Depending on my sodium intake for the week, I wear it on my left hand, but sometimes on my right.

I make no apologies, excuses or explanations for continuing to wear my wedding ring long after my divorce has been finalized. In fact, for the last year, it sat in a safety deposit box in the bank. It wasn't until I'd settled in to my new life with Mr. Ex and gotten past the pain of my divorce that I was finally ready to put it back on. Because it was at that point that the ring became what it truly is... a piece of jewelry, and a nice one to boot.

I mean come on. I'm not going to lie. Most of the jewlery I have was a gift for J-Fed. In fact, three of my favorites pieces came well after our divorce -- a necklace, a white gold bracelet from Europe and a divorce ring he had made for me to replace my wedding ring. Of course, none are as nice as my wedding ring. And to be quite frank, if you're going to wear one piece of jewelry from the arse, you might as well wear them all.

Some people might call it false advertising since I'm not married or engaged. To them I say, eat shit and die. I endured nine years of headache and heartache and I deserve to wear that ring like a medal of honor, damnit. I earned it.

The ring itself was passed down from J-Fed's mother. The band was picked out by J-Fed and I. When we got engaged, it was with the understanding that if I ever wanted a divorce, the ring would go back to J-Fed. If he wanted the divorce, the ring would be passed down to one of my daughters. I guess we both wanted the divorce -- so technically wear the ring goes is a toss-up.