As I have been recently trying to navigate the dating world, deciding who to date, why to date them, if they are already interesting enough but also in the friendship category, I have been dissecting what I want to do differently if and when I get into another relationship. Do I want to have a talk about finances early, or never? Do I want my adult children to approve, or meet them only when absolutely necessary? Would I want to live with someone, or have the freedom of separate households? It worked for Frida Kahlo and Diego Rivera, right? Would we have to have the same political views if we never talked about politics? What about free time, sporting events, sushi? How much of myself do I share, and how much do I know there is no room for compromise? Who will they be in my world, and will I know if they are right for now, or forever?
Most importantly, I needed to know what was truly missing that I would want for sure from myself so that I would know if I was not getting it or giving it.
My answer: Earrings.
I wasn't expecting that to be the answer either when I started thinking about it, but it is true. Everything could be summed up in whether or not I was willing to wearing earrings.
See, I love earrings. I don't mean lots of earrings like on those multi packs from Claire's. I mean earrings that I put on because they make me happy, and feel pretty or sexy, or at least pulled together and caring about stuff. Days I put on earrings are days when I have thought about what I look like, what I want other people to see, what activities I might be doing, and how much I care about the earrings being lost or taken off in the process.
I have a pair of stylized cat earrings. The tail is the hook that goes through your ear, so you have to put them on from the backside. They are silver and a little heavy, but they make this great whoosh sound when I turn my head. They were a gift from my boyfriend when I was 19, along with a cute little black dress I still own, so that I would have something he wanted to see me in to go out that night. It was a whim, and a total testament to youth and lack of planning.
I have a pair of light green Big Sur jade earrings. They are triangles and dangle against my neck. They are always cool to the touch even in the hottest weather. They look best when my hair is up, or smoothed back in some way. They are so thin, the light shines through them, and they feel like fragile pieces of china instead of stone. I bought them for myself with money I had forgotten about in an account I opened the day my ex husband and I spilt in 1998. I had opened my first account without him, and it was the first account I had that I didn't share with anyone else, and have never shared with anyone since. I had "found" the money because of one of those "lost money to the state" searches, went in and closed the account, receiving cash, and spent it almost immediately on the earrings at the farmer's market that night. I have been known to wear them on first dates.
I have a pair of earrings made from old typewriter keys with the letters H and M (my children's initials) on them. The earrings don't technically match, but look like a pair nonetheless. I got them from a small booth at an antique faire I went to alone because the person I was seeing was too hungover to get out of bed that morning. He had wanted me to stay, but I went ahead and did our plans without him. I wear those earrings to important events that celebrate my kids.
I have a pair of niobium rainbow sunset earrings. No idea where I got them but I have had them forever. They hum when I walk.
I have pearls. I used to wear them to job interviews. They live in the jewelry box now. I hear that when you don't wear pearls, they lose their shine. I think they are too stuffy and expectant, and try too hard. I am not sad that they are kind of meh. Things change, priorities change. I keep them, like a gift and a touchstone, but I never wear them. I don't need them anymore.
I have a single earring left of what is still my favorite "pair". I bought them with my own money from my first paycheck at a summer job when I was 18. They are drop squares, sterling silver, the perfect every day earrings. I used to wear them daily, and for every occasion for years, decades even. I lost one of them at a strip club in Vegas just a couple years ago. I had gone with my ex, because he had never taken a woman to a strip club, and was unsure I would like it. It was kinda a test. He had gone to them often, in different cities while on work assignments or living apart from his family, so he knew his way around. He thought I didn't because I hadn't really told him everything there was to know about my mid twenties. I should have known better than to wear earrings at all because true to their professions, beautiful nearly naked women enjoyed his lap, or the padded cocktail table in front of me, fondling and nuzzling. It was super fun, until it was wasn't. Might have been the alcohol. Might have been the last couple of girls paying more attention to me than him. Might have been me enjoying it a little less demurely than he had seen before, and being a woman on my own in what he had sorta deemed as his territory. Years of doing that will give you that impression. We left, and an earring and a pair of sunglasses was the price for the ride. The rest of the night was a blur of being turned on and disconnected at the same time. Lost and founds in strips clubs don't really exist. I wear the singular earring now when I can feel something shifting, but don't have a clear picture of what it is. A blur of anticipation, knowing that whatever it is, I am in the space alone for a while. I have been wearing it most of the week.
Yes, this week is when I started wearing earring(s) again, as I have been writing and thinking about what I want. I hadn't been wearing earrings for the last 18 months or so, stuck in my own head of not needing them, not wanting them, not wanting to lose them. I had done it to myself (again) and forgot that I existed. I started not wearing them because I thought they didn't matter. My whole rack of earrings, collecting dust for the most part, only occasionally get spun around to see if something felt right here or there. Without earrings on, I could be invisible.
This week I remembered that every time I buy or wear earrings purposefully, I feel different. Every time I wear earrings, I feel more myself and comfortable with my choices. Every time I wear earrings I know I have tried for myself to get out of my head, out of my own way, to make a choice. And own the choice, too, without having to explain it, even if it would never make sense to someone else. It is not their earrings.
So what does this have to do with dating? I realized that everything I do from now on, is wide open. I can try the people on like earrings, and see if they fit. That ever time I have something new, I get to form an opinion and a memory just like that. I can, if I want to, wear it for a while, and then not ever again. All those differences for new people in my world, and what I want to do with them, can be like my spinning rack. Maybe today, it is a the gold antique hoops. Maybe tomorrow it is the filigree and amethyst. Maybe it is just one, maybe it is a pair. Do I wear my hair back and show them off to a new date, or do I take them off and put them in my purse (not my pocket because we know how well that went last time, HA!)?
Maybe I will even buy a new pair.
