Wedding Ring: Does it mean anything

I am not sure where it came from, or when it started, but for the past several years I have had a passion for salsa dancing. Passion is a strong word, I suppose, but let's just say I really enjoy salsa dancing. I went for the first time with my sister and a group of her friends years ago, and had a blast! Sure it is a bit intimidating and you have to be quick on your feet, a quick learner and willing to trip over yourself, your partner, and willing to laugh at yourself a bit. But besides that, it's super great.

Overall, I LOVE dancing. I was always a huge fan of the middle school sock hops, high school dances, prom, homecoming, you name it- I was there. Wedding dances are my favorite! If there is an empty floor and a good DJ, you can always count on this girl to be one of the first ones on the floor. With that said, when I had my first experience with salsa dancing- I fell in love. I love the more organized aspect of it. The idea of having specific steps and dancing because it is a passion is something that I admire in the salsa communities. Now I understand that there are elements "dirty dancing" at a salsa club, but I appreciate that it's not the nasty 'grinding up on each other' sort of dancing. (Which really, is that even dancing?)  With salsa it's more about the dance, the culture of it all... I feel like I'm starting to sound like I'm straight out of Footloose defending dancing or something.

And now, I've gotten quite far away from where I originally meant to go with this post. I'll try to focus and pull it together. Because of this curiosity or intrigue with salsa dancing- I decided to try taking a Salsa dance class. Tonight was the night. I asked a friend to come with me and she was a great sport not having danced salsa before. I've been salsa dancing a few times before, so I caught on pretty quickly. Overall it was a BLAST!! There were about 12 of us there, a pretty good balance of men and women and we all took turns with different partners learning some advanced beginner steps, and then on to an intermediate dance. All in all, it was a great experience. I would definitely go back and do it again.

But then... there was a little part of the evening that tainted my experience. Long story short without explaining everything, one of the men that I danced with later proceeded to ask if I wanted his number. Ugh. Here is where the title of this post should start to make sense. What I don't get is, Does a wedding ring mean NOTHING? You danced with me, you held my hand (because you have to in salsa dancing), I was talking with my hands as I explained I wasn't going to be at the next salsa event tomorrow and yet somehow either you are blind and missed the rock and band on my finger, OR, you are just choosing to ignore it. No- I don't want your number! I'm wearing a ring that means I am MARRIED- off the market! And I know you're not just trying to be my friend.

It both frustrates me and makes me feel sad. Sure, there is an element of every girl, whether you admit it or not, that loves to be admired or wanted. I'd be lying if I said it doesn't feel nice to know that someone has interest. But does that mean that it is okay for you to be hitting on me when clearly I am wearing a ring on my left hand which has the role of being a physical reminder of the promise that I made to a man who is my HUSBAND? No- in my book that's not okay.

The reason it makes me sad is because it makes me wonder what this world is really coming to. Has our world really become SO corrupted that marriage means nothing? Therefore the physical reminder of the wedding ring on the finger also doesn't give the signal to not hit on me? Sad.

To me, my wedding ring stands for the choice I have made to be in a loving relationship with one man for the rest of my life. That doesn't mean that if you see me without him by my side, then I'm fair game. It means, if you want to admire me, tell me that I'm hot or whatever the heck you want- then fine-  go for it (like I said, I'm a girl, we all like it)! Go ahead and tell me my husband is a lucky man, or something!  I won't get mad at you for that.  But then cut it off there, don't hit on me.  Then I can walk away having respect for you because you respected the fact that I'm a married woman.

Point is- if you're single and you see that someone is wearing a wedding ring, or engagement ring, BE RESPECTFUL! Have the common courtesy to stick to the friend zone, just chat, whatever!! Don't be the fool who hits on a married woman.

Marriage should mean something these days. It does to me.

 

Triggered Memories

Tonight I am blogging from what used to be my bedroom for 3 months, at my sister's place. We decided that it has been awhile since we had a sleepover, and a random Wednesday night was what we picked. My sister and I have a really special relationship. She is not just my sister, she's my best friend. She knows me inside and out, makes me laugh when I'm cranky, let's me share her clothes, pretty much everything you could want in a sister.

For the past 3 years, I had been living on my own. I had a cute 1-bedroom apartment, in a brick story-book apartment building, that had great character, and a perfect location- just a block from the nearest Alterra. I loved it! I had never lived alone prior to this and I absolutely loved it. It gave me a great opportunity to really get to know myself, and experience what living on your own is like. You can make messes wherever you want, when you want, you can move your bedroom around just so your bed is in the perfect spot to watch Avatar on the TV in the living room while falling asleep (yup I did that), heck- you can even walk around naked if you want. :) Overall, living alone was great.

This past August, life turned into a whirlwind of change, and my time of living alone was up. My position at work was eliminated and I was preparing to get married. I personally did not believe in living with my fiancé before getting married, so I knew that I was going to figure something else out. As this was all happening with me, my sister was in the process of moving out of her old place into her own super cute, 2-bedroom apartment. So what ended up happening worked out PERFECTLY. In the process of ending a lease and starting a new lease, my sister ended up in my joint for a month. Picture this: two queen beds and two dressers in a one-bedroom apartment. May sound cramped, but thankfully I had a big bedroom and really it was great. It was like a sleepover with your best friend for a month- we had a blast. At the end of that month she moved into her place, and 2 weeks later my lease ended and over I came to her house. Unlike my place she had two bedrooms- so I had a separate space to call my own.

Living with my sister for the 3 months prior to getting married was one of the biggest blessings that I experienced in preparing for the next stage of my life. As I was sitting here tonight, with my sister having already fallen asleep I walked around the apartment and the familiar scent filled my nose. I stood there for a moment in the darkness of her living room and let the memories flood back in. So much happened in this place in the 3 months that I spent here. Putting together wedding invites, wrapping bridesmaid gifts, putting together seating charts, fabulous dinner and sleepover for my bachelorette party, what had to have been the best bridal shower on earth (really I must tell you about that another time- I had a cake with the most adorable shoes on it, as a gift from my bridesmaids), and primping and putting on my wedding gown, all took place in this space.

I look back on those 3 months with the fondest of memories. I could not have had the best experience in preparing for my wedding. Besides all the fun that happened in this apartment, the ultimate reason that these memories are so great is because of the blessing of being able to spend so much time with my ever-so-loving sister. I am thankful for a wonderful sister who even though we don't live under the same roof anymore, welcomes me into her home no matter what the hour, who runs over to my house when I'm having a hard day, who buys me a bottle of wine and bubble bath after a stressful interview, and who still wants to have sleepovers even in the middle of the week.

I am thankful that the simple moment of breathing in the aromas that fill this space triggered such fond memories and reminders of how blessed I am.