To Feel Secure
The ridges curl and roll for eternity, curving into the shape of a size 6.5 ring with a crossover layer of pavé diamonds that encompass the whole form. It’s a smooth ring with a unique texture from the details in the ridges and edges of each petite 18 diamond settings. In addition to the glittering diamonds that rest on the top of the ring, the silver shade looks elegant upon my middle finger the ring runs around each and every day. Without it, I’m naked. I constantly run my fingers across the soothing texture of my ring like I do over my glossy painted nails, taking it on and off throughout the day in an acquired nervous habit to alleviate my anxiety. Just like running my fingers through my hair and bending my fingers from one side to another until they crack, I slide my perfectly fitting sparkling silver ring on and off and on and off again to distract my cluttered mind.
Technically, the ring is not mine. It is my mom’s ring she would wear on her left ring finger every once and a while and I would preciously take out of her jewelry box for certain occasions. My dad bought it for her on one of many family vacations to Sint Maarten. David Yurman jewelry and the soft Caribbean sand go together like sunshine in Southern California in my family. It felt all the more special to wear the ring only sometimes, but I wanted to have it on my finger forever. After one dance my junior year of high school, I left mom’s ring in my bedside jewelry dish, and from then on, that remained its home. On my finger, it feels so natural; it feels so me. In my mom’s natural loving character, she didn’t mind me “borrowing” her ring just like I did with the matching bangle bracelet. The two pieces are a part of the same family, so how could I borrow one from my mom’s jewelry box without the other?
Wearing my ring everyday makes me feel more complete, as if I have my life together with my set of daily jewelry that makes me ever so slightly more confident in myself. I always wear my silver pavé diamond David Yurman ring on my left middle finger, my silver David Yurman pavé diamond bracelet over my right wrist, and my rose gold Tiffany heart necklace around my neck. My jewelry is my security. It comes with me everywhere, but my ring was the starting point. The ring was on my finger as I crossed the stage at eighth grade graduation and headed onto high school, leaving a large part of me in the past as I tried to figure out who I was and what I thought I wanted in life as a high schooler. The ring was on my finger as I sat outside my friend’s house in my Victorian collared, sea blue homecoming dress alongside my best friends, talking into the night and watching the stars pan across the October night sky. The ring was on my finger each morning, my left hand wrapped around the steering wheel where the ring would catch sun rays through the windshield with my right arm resting on the center console, as I drove across foggy San Diego freeways to school. The ring was on my finger as I made my bed inside my New York City dorm room, scratching it against the wall as I tucked in the sheets. The ring was on my finger as I danced with my friends all night to the beat of too loud music, soaking up all that life throws at a bunch of 19 year-old girls.
In the same way my little elementary school self couldn’t sleep at night without her baby blanket, my growing 19 year-old self can’t have a normal day without my David ring sitting around my finger. I may not know exactly what I want in life or how I will get where I think I want to go, but what I do know is that my ring grounds me to where I’ve come from and reminds me of the experiences that have shaped the person I am today.
