A necklace really shouldn’t cause anyone this much anxiety. I bought it from a friend selling those fabulous accessories made by women moving out of poverty. Cute jewelry + women’s empowerment. Win-win.
I haven’t gotten myself a new necklace in years, I thought. It’s for a good cause.
I scrolled through the catalog and found a bold one: dangling gold bangles laying in sort of a chevron pattern. It was fun! It was different!
I clicked Buy Now.
Days later, the package arrived, and I opened it eagerly—
And my heart sank.
The necklace was about three times as big as I’d imagined. It was super cute, don’t get me wrong. But my style tends towards understated. Like really understated. Like I rarely wear jewelry at all.
Someone else could pull this beauty off, I said. But me?
I sighed. I hate returning online purchases. Also: I remembered that I’d felt the same way about the last two necklaces I’d splurged on. Apparently, I liked the idea of bold jewelry, but the actuality?
I apparently did not have jewelry chutzpah.
Maybe I’ll wear it to church, I thought. That idea depressed me. I’d shelled out real cash for this thing, and I’d wear it a few times a year? Why bother to spend the money in the first place?
I slid open my er drawer and found a place for the necklace. Then I closed it, a little angry at myself.
A necklace really shouldn’t cause me this much anxiety…
I’m over at SheLoves talking about jewelry–and how we stand up and allow ourselves to be seen. Won’t you join me there?