Every woman has the right to expect a beautiful, makes-her-giddy-every-time-she-looks-at-it engagement ring.
I don’t think you should make your man go bankrupt trying to afford your dream Tiffany’s gem when the poor fella is head cashier at Chipotle. That’s just foolishness. But I think a guy should make the necessary sacrifices, save his dough, and produce a ring that makes his girl’s knees buckle. Or at least say “awww” for a really long time.
On the flip side: if your man pours love and consideration into picking out a ring for you so he can ask you to marry him, you can’t trade that ring in. You can’t turn your nose up in disdain. You can’t diss it, insult it, or accidentally drop it down a sidewalk utility grate. You are stuck with that bad boy until your 10 or 20 year anniversary when maybe, just maybe, if he’s real contemplative, he’ll suggest an upgrade. Maybe.
That’s why I say and say again that you’d be better off giving that man some guidelines if you even suspect he’s out on the market for a piece of finger candy, lest he haul off and buy you something grizzly that makes you become one of those weird people who wears fingerless gloves for no apparent reason. Don’t let yourself become one of those chicks.
Now if he just logs onto Zales.com and picks out the first thing that shimmers with a price tag that doesn’t give him a bad case of heartburn, I’m not talking about him. In fact, his thoughtlessness might set him up to get his little cheapskate feelings hurt.
But if he polled your besties, enlisted your mother to go with him, and paid careful attention to the rings you oohed and aahed over in the bridal magazine you just so happen to keep on your coffee table — you know, as a little something for company to browse through when they drop by — you owe it to him to be gracious enough to wear the ring.
It’s a token of the man’s love, for crying out loud.
I am waiting for the big proposal and the lifting of that magical little velvet box myself. And I know exactly what I want: a two carat total weight in an antique setting with pave stones and a little funkiness to it. In my wildest dreams, the center stone would be a pink diamond, but considering how much they cost and how much my boyfriend is anti-frivolousness, I can’t imagine getting that part of the wish. Even without it, I’m cool.
But even if it looked like who do it and why, I wouldn’t let my disappointment show or worse, tell him the ring he spent his hard-earned duckets on wasn’t good enough for me. It’s like having your child draw you a picture to hang up in your office and not doing it because it clashes with your modern deco motif. That would be uber harsh.
I never dreamt of settling when it came to my engagement ring, but I will if I have to. It just feels like the polite thing to do for the man I love.
But here’s to hoping that I won’t hate it, that he’ll see a pattern in all of the pictures I’ve sent along randomly (but strategically), listen to the guidance of my best friends, and pay attention to my own personal taste to select what I’m expecting to be a shimmery, sparkly stunner. If, after all of that, it still ends up not being what I wanted, I’ll never let on to him.
I’ll just make sure I control every last detail of that wedding and hold the memories of our special day near and dear as a reminder when I accidentally look down at my ring.
If you hate your engagement ring, should you trade it in for a new one?
Image via The Raggedy-man/Flickr