Attention, everyone!
I have decided to start wearing dainty little rings.
For those wondering, “How many dainty little rings? How many fingers?” I am excited to announce the answer is multiple fingers across both hands. Currently, I am up to three total dainty little rings: the middle and pointer fingers of my left hand and the middle finger of my right. From there, only time will tell where we will go.
You can expect to see the impact of this on my personality, effective immediately.
When I slip on my dainty little rings, I immediately feel ten years older and five times sluttier. Of course, there are still times when I do feel like a man who is still wearing his wedding ring, despite the divorce papers sitting in his desk drawer and the fact that his wife is in Cabo with her trainer, Stephen—the same feeling that prevented me from wearing rings in the first place. But when the rings are dainty, and my nails are shaped and painted like little Jordan almonds, I don’t feel like I have big fat man fingers; I feel like a Woman Who Works in PR.
With my dainty little rings, it’s like I am wearing a lanyard with a giant, unwieldy pass that grants me access to a restricted area. I am not just walking with purpose; I am leading the talent and am PLANNING the event.
Although many of you—my closest friends—have not commented on my dainty little rings, I know that when I walk down the street, everyone notices I am wearing dainty little rings. They stop in their tracks and say to their companion, “Oh, she’s wearing rings,” or perhaps, “Wow, look at that woman’s dainty little rings. She must have a high-powered yet creative and trend-based job.”
But also? When I have on my dainty little rings? I notice… no one else is wearing rings. Funny how other people just won’t put the effort in. Here I am, adorned in gold down to my fingertips, and you all are just bare-skinned. Nothing to click-clack against your travel mug or the subway pole. Even though I’m not wearing any makeup, my nail polish is chipping, and my outfit is bad, my dainty little rings scream to other commuters that I actually woke up early. I probably have a whiteboard magnetized to my refrigerator that I update with self-affirmations and gratitude each morning before I stop by the farmer’s market for a fresh-cut bouquet and honey lavender oat milk latte, then casually slink off to work. Who cares if I’m thirty minutes late? I’m actually totally on time in my rings.
But when I do see one of my dainty little ring sisters, I feel community like never before. I just know our fingers bounce just a little higher when we type and bend just a little more when we gesture so we can show off the fact that we are wearing dainty little rings.
So, it’s strange to me that none of you have noticed my dainty little rings. Like, yeah, they are completely made of plastic and are a strange, unnatural sheen of gold, and they did come in a pack of ten from H&M for like eight dollars, but these are training rings. I haven’t consistently worn jewelry since I had my ears pierced between the ages of eight and eleven, and YOU ALL KNOW THIS. Is that why you haven’t said anything? It’s just like, this is a HUGE change for me. Not wearing jewelry was, like, my whole thing. And now I suddenly have THREE dainty little rings on, and you say NOTHING?! Am I invisible to you? Are my fingers invisible to you?
This isn’t a phase; it’s who I am now. You may not recognize me anymore, and that’s okay. We all grow and change at one point or another. I am now becoming who I was meant to be. Once I buy real gold dainty little rings from a dainty little ring pop-up in Williamsburg, I will finally self-actualize. If you don’t like the person I truly am, then perhaps we just shouldn’t be in each other’s lives anymore.
You know I hate confrontation and didn’t want to do this, but I hope you can apologize and accept me, and we can all move past this and get brunch soon. If so, it might be a good opportunity for me to try out a thumb ring. Let me know.
- xoxo