Breaking the habit of looking for “the ring”

Not sure who Kathleen and William are, but I wish them the best!

I went to a coffee shop last night with my roommate and an acoustic singer guy was playing there. It was the kind of charming coffee shop where the wood beams are exposed and has old brick walls with a hardwood floor. The kind of place where an acoustic singer plays music while you sit and chat about life’s deeper meanings. The kind of place where you people-watch at cute little babies who watch right back at you.

But I couldn’t get it out of my mind…Baylor trained me to always look for the wedding ring on a guys hand. Maybe it wasn’t Baylor, persay, that trained me to do this. Maybe it was the culture, who knows. It feels hardwired. Like, as soon as I met a male, my mind hones in on the ring like a heat seeking missile.

The guitarist sang/played at least 7 songs that I knew well…like “Chasing Cars” and “Run” by Snow Patrol, “Falling Slowly” by Glen Hansard, and “Volcano” and “O” by Damien Rice…AND he was cute and really normal looking. It’s like all these things were aligning and then *BAM!* ring.

At first I was disappointed. But then, almost as quickly, I immediately reflected back to so many conversations I’ve had with sorority sisters about marriage, long term relationships, etc on the phone, on Skype, and on Bear Trail walks. About how it’s okay to be single, okay to not have a boyfriend/husband in our early twenties. Look at the rest of the United States and it’s different, the average marriage age isn’t 21 (*cough cough BAYLOR*), so what’s the rush? Why feel guilty for being single and enjoy being unattached to a significant other? Not that it’s bad to be married or attached at a young age if you’ve found the right person of course and don’t feel pressured to marry solely because of Ring By Spring rule. And yes, it is a rule.

And then I started thinking about the Feminine Mystique and the I-AM-WOMAN, stop-pressing-me, do-your-OWN-laundry, liberate-the-female mindset.

And then I just laugh at myself and say “oh Baylor.

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