For years, I wore my engagement and wedding rings. Then the pandemic hit and I started thinking about what those rings actually mean to me.

For years, I wore my engagement and wedding rings. Then the pandemic hit and I started thinking about what those rings actually mean to me.

I got engaged in a botanical garden in Egypt. I was waiting in a gazebo while he used the bathroom. When he came back, he got down on one knee and did his thing. The ring wasn’t actually a ring; it was a mould of what it would look like.

My husband designed it himself using parts of his mom’s old engagement ring. When we got home, it was finally finished; I was so excited to wear it. Co-workers, friends and family would all ask me to look at the ring and I would fan my hand out to show it off and tell my story, unapologetically giddy about the attention.

Then after our wedding, I started wearing both my wedding band and the engagement ring. It felt very official like I’m a married woman now. Every morning, like clockwork, I would pop them on my finger before heading for work. I would be typing an email and then I’d look down at my hands and be in awe of my new status.

For years I wore them whenever I went out. I kept wearing them throughout both my pregnancies. But then the pandemic hit and I stopped.

Germs and all that hand washing

At first, it was about germs. Rings act as surfaces for potential microbial growth and disease transmission. One study looked at surgical ICU nurses and compared individuals who wore rings and those who didn’t. Nurses who wore rings had a 10-fold higher median hand bacterial count than those who didn’t wear jewelry.

In addition, I was washing my hands nonstop; taking off my rings and putting them back on was a very inefficient process. So one day, I put my rings in my jewelry box and told myself I’ll wear them once I’m vaccinated.

An ode to my roots and my parents’ marriage

But then, the shots came and went and I still haven’t retrieved them from my jewelry box. The ring’s symbol changed for me and not wearing them was actually more meaningful than wearing them.

Growing up, my immigrant parents never wore their rings because their jobs required manual labour. Their hands were their most important assets.

My dad worked as an electrician. Wearing anything metal would risk electrocution and ring avulsion injuries. My mom worked as a seamstress and wearing rings wasn’t safe since they could get caught in the fabric or the machinery.

As someone sits in front of a computer for her work, I could wear my rings all day. However, I’ve stopped as an ode to my parents’ 40+ year marriage and as a symbol of where I’ve come from.

I don’t need a ring to let people know I’m married

Lastly, I started thinking about my feminist beliefs and what the rings meant.

Do rings align with my values around gender equality?

What do I want my kids to think of gender roles in a relationship?

Traditionally, getting engaged meant that a man proposes with a ring so that the woman can wear something to publicly show she is taken and other men can’t hit on her. The more money the man spends on the ring means the more valuable the woman is.

This makes me sick to my stomach. I’m more than my relationship status. I’m more than the jewelry I wear on my fingers. My husband doesn’t own me. My worth isn’t dependent on how much money he dropped on me. My marriage is based on trust, respect, unconditional love and devotion. I don’t need a ring to advertise that.

So Readers, ring or no ring?

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