I have no real interest in this YouTuber: I don't follow her, I don't know her name, I've never seen her videos, I know nothing about her. But, de-cluttering is always a good thing, right? So, I'm watching her -she's very chipper- and she's talking about asking yourself whether you're using something daily, weekly, blah blah blah, her voice fades away as I'm watching until she mentions that her daughter had given her a product to try but that she, a middle-aged mom, never ended up using it. And I wondered, noticed, tried to figure out if she was my age or younger (or older?) and how old her kids were. Then I noticed. I saw it. I paused the video. She wasn't wearing a wedding ring. Oh. She had *some* kind of ring on, like maybe one of those silicone rings on her right hand, or was the video reversed? But. She didn't have on a wedding ring, or was it? Maybe she is older, still had a partner at home, was confident without a traditional ring. She was talking about her new house. She didn't need space for this and that. And she was a mom, and she had kids at home.
I jumped into her list of videos and just a few videos earlier in her series was one entitled, 'Tom and I are divorced...this sucks." Oh. I just sat there and sighed. Yes, it sucks. Still, she has a great smile and seems okay on her videos. Of course, why wouldn't she appear okay on her videos, right? Fake it 'til you make it. But the ring caught my eye because the ring, for me, is part of what still stings. Not the gold band, itself, but the identity it's tied to. For decades, my band represented not only my partner, but my role as a mom and caregiver and my job to make our family a whole protective entity. Providing food and clothing, support and love. It was my gang, my unit, my group, my family. Wearing that ring tied me to my family.
I remember when my ex-husband lost his wedding ring. I wonder now about that. He said he lost it at the gym and that seems a bit far-fetched as I look back at it. More recent history colors the memory, for sure. I have no idea. He bought a new band and it was different than the old one, which was thick smooth rounded gold. The new one was flatter with sharper edges. I didn't like it and looking back, I wondered why he bothered. I'm not sure it meant the same thing to him as mine did to me. I love my wedding rings. The bridge setting on the engagement ring creates a solid gold block with the wedding band. I just love it. Well, I loved it. Obviously I don't wear it any longer, but that brings me to identity. Who am I without those rings? I am partner-less. My rings tied me to my family when I was out in the world. Now, no one knows if I have a family. No one assumes I have someone. No one guesses I have children. No one puts me in a setting with loved ones and purpose and a life of caring for my people. If anyone wants to know, I have to tell them, but I don't want to have to tell them. And then, they wonder like me, because I'm not wearing a ring. Those in wonderment do the same thing to me that I did to that YouTuber. They run down a mental list of signals about who this woman is: how old is she, is she married or have a partner, does she have kids, how old are they? And then the research reveals all. Oh, she is older and no partner, and no people. She's divorced. "I wonder what happened..."
I don't know, but I imagine men have it a little easier in that regard. I'm not sure men are weighed down with the identity tied to all the stuff that (some, many?) women do, whether by 'society' or themselves. I've witnessed plenty of men who can quickly pick themselves up and move on without batting an eye. They're dating, out on the town -and I'm sounding like sour grapes. If the divorced men had their identity as tied up in the family unit, perhaps it wouldn't be as easy for them. Perhaps they would mourn the naked ring finger.
I find myself constantly defining and re-defining myself, adjusting one way or another, one step forward, two steps back. I was the mom in the house with all the stuff for everyone, prepared to pivot or help however I could, with the support of my partner. How can I be the mom I was? Yes, I'm still a mom, but what about a mom? I can't separate empty-nest-ness from different status-ness. I want to be the mom I was. But it is no longer an option when the rules and the contract change. I want to be the steady support I was, but I really struggle with that now as I struggle to support myself, alone. I need to find a way to turn my old rings into something meaningful in the now and I can't re-imagine those rings, though I keep trying. I really want to wear them again, but in some other form -I don't know, I'm hoping for an epiphany. It hasn't shown up yet.
