Putting on my jewelry in the morning has become a staple in my routine. Without my jewelry, I feel a sense of dread, almost like I am forgetting an essential part of myself. It’s not about sparkle or style, it’s about connection. The more that I’ve thought about it, the more I realize that each piece ties me to someone I love. My sister, brother, my friends and my parents have each contributed something to the collection I carry with me every day. Miles don’t feel quite as long when their gifts are with me.
Every morning follows the same rhythm: I do my skincare hair, outfit and then my jewelry. The final step always feel the most important. Some pieces I never take off, like my necklace that I share with my sister. Different stone the same heart. We’ve twinned with them for years, and somehow they still feel new. They symbolize us perfectly- two people shaped by the same people, yet entirely different in personality. And yet, we fit. Whenever I touch my necklace when I’m nervous, I’m reminded of the quote from Liv and Maddie: “Sisters by chance, friends by choice”. Our bond of sisters, although in different stages of life and speeds, will never be broken as long as we have something to connect with.
Others, like my beaded bracelets that my brother got me for my 19th birthday, never come off. I remember mentioning them once, during a summer vacation. When I unwrapped them before I left for my sophomore year, I thought of all the times that I thought he wasn’t listening, but he was. Every time I glance down at my wrist, I think about all the money he saved, and the quiet effort behind a simple gift. The ring I wear on my left index finger is from him too. It’s a solid gold band, but sturdy and simple. Wearing it feels like carrying his presence with him, something that I don’t take for granted.
My ring that I wear on my right index finger brings me back to a different kind of comfort. It transports me to the summer before sophomore year. Long, golden evenings in a small Michigan town with my hometown best friends. Back then, the school year felt far away. We wandered through the streets without urgency, laughing until our stomachs hurt, believing that nothing would change. That ring holds the warmth of those sunsets and the ease of being surrounded by people who knew me before I grew into the woman I am now.
And then there are my hoop earrings, a Christmas gift from my parents. Every time I put them in, I am whooshed to a time where life was more simple. When I could just go down the hall to them to talk, and I didn’t have to work to maintain the relationships that now require intention and distance. They remind me that love can be constant, even when proximity isn’t.
My jewelry isn’t just decoration. It’s memory and effort. It’s proof that even when I step out into the world alone, I am never truly by myself.