independent woman ring

So before I left for my trip, I was visiting a good friend of mine. She called me out on her front porch, asked me to sit down, and said, "I have something for you to borrow for your trip." She took this beautiful ring off her finger, and put it on my left ring finger (where the indent had finally gone away from my wedding ring). It's a silver ring with an amorphous woman's form. You can see her outline, her hand over head, and her hair tumbling over her shoulders. She is sort of swimming in these silver waves that wrap around my finger. My friend said to me, "This is my independent woman ring. I bought it for myself at a time in my life when I needed to remember that I was really all I needed; that I am truly my own best friend. I want you to wear it for your trip. Anytime you get lonely or scared, just hold that ring and remember that you have the strength. And I don't want it back, so just pass it on to another woman on your trip who might need it, whenever you're done."

I wore that ring like it was my left lung. As the plane glided down onto the runway at the Paris ariport, I squeezed my ring finger, feeling the cool metal grooves of the waves. One time when I got lost coming home in Amsterdam, I started to panic, but then I stopped, held my ring for a minute, and eventually found my way. On a stretcher, all alone in the hallway of a German hospital at 3am, waiting to have my ankle x-rayed, I held that ring for strength. Then, when no one offerred to help me with my bag when I was on crutches, I looked down at my ring, took a deep breath, and hoisted that baby on my back while standing on my one good leg. But something happened over the course of my trip. Sometimes, towards the end, I would rush out of my hostel in the morning and forget to put it on. In the beginning of my trip, I would put it on often before my clothes so I wouldn't forget. But by the last week, there were times when I would look down at my finger in the evening and notice that I hadn't had it on all day. I was growing not to need it anymore.

When I returned home earlier this week, I had lunch with the friend who let me borrow the ring. I told her how much I used it and appreciated it during my travels. I told her I also kept my eye out for another woman who might need it, but I didn't really come across anyone who fit the description. I felt sort of badly about it. I didn't want to hog the ring now that I felt like I didn't need it anymore, but I just didn't meet anyone else who seemed. . . "worthy." She told me just to hang on to it until I found someone.

Well a couple of days later, she called me rather upset, because she and her serious boyfriend of over a year had just broken up. She is one of the strongest, most self-realized people I know, but she was telling me over the phone about how she was scared to be alone now. They had been discussing marriage, and she didn't want to be lonely now that she was so suddenly single again. I said, "You know what? I think it's time I give you your ring back. I knew there was a reason I couldn't find anyone else."

Does this mean I am forever independent and strong? That I am better than her or any of the other single women out there feeling cold and alone in that big bed tonight? Of course not. But I think we take our turns through the valleys, and at the top of the peaks. My friend was there for me through my valley, and now, as I stand at the top of what feels like a small, but very victorious hill, I gladly turn to her and reach down my hand - with nothing on my fingers but a little dirt from the climb.