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Little Red Riding Hood no more


I.. connect… the… dots…late… but I do.

I found the “mystery” of why my ex husband didn’t want a wedding ring.

For you, my dear reader, it might be obvious: because he doesn’t want women to know he’s married, right? But not for me. I can have something in front of me and still not be able to figure it out. OMG! I’m so angry.

A few years ago, after one of our epic battles of screaming, I stepped out of our very-high-rise-apartment overlooking the Pacific Ocean in Panama City, took the elevator 23 stories down, and bought a bunch of beers in the convenient store that was at walking distance. Then, I returned to the building, got in the elevator again, this time to get to the 25th floor where the common pool was, and sat at a table. I opened one of the beer cans, and started looking at my golden wedding ring. I took it out of my finger, and started playing with it, making it spin on the table. I drank, I made the ring spin. I did that for a while.

When the beers started to kick in, I had an idea. What if I just threw the ring down, from the top of the building? I stayed there, looking at the ocean. There was almost no traffic down at the city, it was a Sunday. It was nice and quiet, not too hot either. Yup. I looked down from behind the low wall that separated me from the abyss. Yup. I opened the hand that held the ring and watched it fall all 25 floors down, until it hit the roof of a store and stayed there.

Later, I told my husband that I had lost it. I wanted to know if he cared. Nop, not at all. He couldn’t have cared less.

Years passed, two more countries, and last year, after a myriad of crisis followed by temporary solutions, I felt that we were a loving couple again, and that therefore, we could buy wedding rings again (he had stopped using his a while ago, because we lived in our country of origin for a while, and it’s too dangerous over there to carry anything made out of gold; but now we are living in a very safe area). We had spent the previous three months in peace, and, even though sex had been considerately reduced, we were in good terms. I assumed that we had finally gone back to having the good relationship that we used to have..

I told him about it, and he reacted being offended: “Why? Why do you need rings? What do you have to prove?” I was stunned. I was thinking, ‘well, because we are married, married people wear rings, it’s a sign of love and compromise’ , but I felt totally ridiculous saying that to him. If he was not thinking that already, then what was the point of saying it? But I did not get mad. I was too thrilled that we had had the last few months in peace, to feel offended by that comment.

What I replied next surprised me, because I am not a person that usually cares about status or about what other people think. But, I also know that when you are new in a place you have to make and effort to more or less fit in, so I said: “Well, we are living in Mexico, people are conservative here, letting them know that I am married might put people at ease, specially the kids’ moms”. He got even more offended (or at least that’s what he wanted me to think): “So you want to show off that you are married to me?” WTF?! Who does he think he is? It all seemed so absurd to me and nonsense.

Not today. FINALLY I understand the “nonsense”. He was so adamant about “being offended” that I totally failed to see the obvious: he did not want other people, let’s be more specific here, he did not want women to know he was married!

How did I end up realizing the existence of the big elephant in the room? Because last Friday, when I got out at night by myself for the first time ever, the first thing I wanted to know about the guy (any guy) in front of me, was if he was wearing a wedding ring or not.

For… crying… out… loud. I feel like I was Little Red Riding Hood.

But not anymore. She is dead.


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