Let me lay it out, just as handwashed clothes with Ivory soap were placed on a clothesline to dry on a warm summer’s day. For years, I carried this quiet pressured weight wondering if tying the knot at 20 meant I was falling behind. Never spoke about it out loud. I let the thought settle deep. Often it showed up every time I caught myself measuring my life against somebody else’s highlight reel.
Waiting to be chosen again...was never the plan.
This year, before my birthday came around, I did not sit my ass down waiting for some dude to promise me forever. Nah, my girl, I made that promise to myself. Real talk, I went and slid a ring on my own finger. It is crazy ‘cause I have not sported a ring on my ring finger that meant something since the fall of 2022. This time around I wanted to purchase an engagement ring. Not ‘cause I was pressed to be chosen or lonely.
