I Am Enough, I Choose Me

 

For the better part of two decades I’ve worn a pair of sapphire studs in the piercings closest to my head. Next to those, I wore a smaller, cheaper set of zirconium studs. Walking farther out on my earlobes, I used to have a third set of matched piercings and a fourth on the left side, the tiniest signals that I was a normal teenager determined to rebel in some small way. Once I had a tenure-track job, I let holes #5-7 close and stuck with the two evenly matched pairs of studs. I thought the look suited me and my plain style, and it was convenient to rarely change my earrings.

The sapphire earrings matched my engagement ring, chosen with Chris in the fall of 2003. What a happy day that was, wandering through Boston jewelry stores feeling like the happiest fishes out of water. We only had eyes for each other and our future. I was drawn to a ring with a plain white gold setting featuring a central oval sapphire with small diamonds flanking it. It was pretty – the blue was my color – yet not pretentious. He later returned to choose this ring from a few we liked and gave it to me weeks later, upon my return from spending Christmas with my family. A few months after that, Chris covertly selected the sapphire studs and presented them to me to commemorate our wedding.

Unfortunately, I lost one of the earrings not long afterwards as I was waiting for the train in the Kendall T station. It was the winter after our wedding; we had been bundled up for a cold walk from lab but then were sweating as we waited on the overheated platform for the train, which was late. I remember removing my winter hat and feeling the earring tear away from the backing, knowing with sickening certainty that it landed down by the rails. I saved the remaining lone stud for years. It was later fashioned into a charm for a family necklace my mother commissioned for me – the main pendant is a silver bar with the names of my children, Chris, and me engraved, one name on each of the four sides.

A few years after this debacle, my dear friend invited me to be a bridesmaid in their wedding party. The dresses were chosen individually, each a blue color; I selected a royal blue satin dress. It was a wonderful wedding – so full of happiness and love. As a token of their appreciation, the couple gave the bridesmaids earrings, mine a pair of sapphire studs. How delightful for me that this commemorative gift was so similar to my own wedding gift from Chris! Placing those studs in my ears felt right, and I rarely removed them in the decade plus that has passed.

Once, I lost a stud for a few weeks. It eventually turned up on a tiny ledge of my bed, the random surface formed by an uneven placement of the top mattress on the box spring. I remember my relief at snapping the earring back in its rightful location. Sadly, I lost one of the earrings again a few weeks ago. Despite my valiant efforts, it has not been recovered. So here I am, stuck with my cheapo zirconium studs and nothing classy to wear next to them.

Does it even matter? Perhaps my ears should be stripped of jewelry. After all, I no longer wear my beloved rings. After I removed my rings from my finger, I added our wedding rings to that family necklace and wore it religiously for a long time. Then the chain began to tarnish and leave marks on my neck, and I couldn’t keep up with polishing it. Halfheartedly, I researched a replacement chain but abandoned the search without a purchase. I ended up retiring that family necklace alongside my engagement ring in its original gift box, now yellowing with age (how can that be…).

Just like the tarnished chain and the yellowing box, I am also showing my age. My unadorned hands look plain and old. My hair has quite a bit of white coming in – I like to think it’s from the stress, but perhaps it would be my genetic destiny regardless of circumstances. I’m no spring chicken, and certainly not a fancy nor fashionable one. Perhaps the season of sentimental, pretty jewelry is over for me.

And yet.

And. Yet.

I am still here.

I am still breathing, still trying to move forward, still striving for connection, still living.

And, as a living, somewhat normal person, I miss those studs. They were perfect when Chris gave them to me, then the other pair was perfect when my friend gave them to me. There were different meanings behind the gifts, but both were heartfelt, thoughtful, and they suited me.

Do I not get to have nice things because I do not have a husband or another man in my life?

Am I not enough on my own, just as I am, to deserve a pair of nice earrings?

Goshdarnit I am enough.

I am deserving, especially after this incredible load of crap thrown my way followed by a pandemic, making me more alone than ever.

(What’s that quote? Oh yes. Stuart Smalley aka Al Franken. “I’m good enough, I’m smart enough, and doggone it, people like me.”)

There is nobody left to know me in the way Chris did, to quietly notice the things I like or need and surprise me with them. No flowers. No upgraded tech. No respite care in the form of takeout arranged when I’m tired, preparation of kids’ lunches, or cleaning of the kitchen. It’s all entirely up to me, and the responsibility of running the house and family weighs on me. I don’t particularly enjoy it; I am too often stressed by it.

It’s up to me, though, to eek enjoyment out of life. What a waste it would be if I just suffered through the rest of my days…

So, I searched for sapphire studs in the covid way - online. This would not be a break-the-bank purchase; it’s a gift to myself slightly nicer than junk jewelry that won’t make anyone in my town jealous. It is not because I need the earrings as a connection to the past. Yes, that is nice, but they looked good on me. They did indeed suit me and my lifestyle. I thoroughly enjoyed those earrings and I want a new pair. The only thing preventing me from having them is choosing to prioritize me, to opt to spoil myself, to recognize that I am enough, just as I am.

I do not need a man or anyone else to give me jewelry.

I chose me and ordered the sapphire earrings.

I am enough.

I choose me.