From Safe Keeping To Self-Compassion: The Journey of My Engagement Ring

For many years, my diamond engagement ring sat in my safe deposit box. An exquisite Marquise cut, the ring was put away for “safekeeping” after I became a widow, when, in fact, I didn’t want to look at it anymore. It felt too painful.

I remember the brilliantly sunny October day John and I traveled to Philadelphia’s famous Jewelers’ Row. Cases of diamonds on black velvet sparkled before me. I had never imagined getting engaged to be married. After all, I was going to write the Great American Novel and travel the world. Then true love came calling.

The diamond that caught my eye was over a carat, but it had a flaw. The flaw appeared as a slight crack inside one side of the stone, and for that reason, the jeweler made the price palatable. I knew the flaw was there—and I always would—but the stone’s beauty was undeniable.

John bought me the ring, albeit not without a small gulp. “This is more than I expected to spend.” He was on a high school English teacher’s salary, after all. The jeweler placed the stone in a setting with prongs that, when I held the ring up to the light, sparkled in all directions on my finger. When John saw that this was the ring I truly wanted, he said, “You’re worth it.”

***

The other way I rationalized not wearing it after he died was that it would go to one of my sons when they got engaged. Now, thirty-one years later, I thought of that beautiful stone in that gray metal box in the back of my closet. Neither son was married, nor even appeared close to popping the question, and it occurred to me that it would look beautiful on my own finger once again. I had seen a friend’s diamond ring she inherited from her mother, and decided that, like her ring, I would change my engagement ring from yellow to white gold. It was enough of a difference to make it appear almost new…as if, now I could start wearing it again in this new year, this next chapter of my life. And so, I had the ring dipped in white gold and gave it to myself as a Christmas present.

***

Practicing self-compassion is allowing beauty in your life. Browsing a cozy bookstore to relishing a hot cup of soup in a coffeeshop which beckons you to write—both of which I did on the day after Christmas—brings beauty too.  

If there is any intention worth setting for the new year, I think that self-compassion may be the best. Once you become kind to yourself, doesn’t it become easier to be kinder to others? There was no reason not to enjoy that ring anymore. And like that diamond, I—we—all have flaws. Imperfection makes it more special. By embracing our own imperfections and flaws, we can learn to embrace those of others through the same lens of kindness.

***

The first time I wore the ring again was the Sunday after Christmas. “Oh, it’s gorgeous,” my friends said when I held out my hand. Yes, it was. Something I had lost had been found again. As I looked at my engagement ring, John’s words came back to me.

You’re worth it.

I invite you to share what have you done to be kind to yourself or another.