On Golden Pawn 

I finally worked up the nerve to pawn my wedding rings. I even took video of them for the last time to mark the occasion and also to post here.

I walked into my local pawn shop -- my first time in such an establishment -- and set the rings on the counter for the broker to assess. First she checked the authenticity of the diamonds. The good news is they are all real. Woohoo! Mr. Ex didn't try to pull a fast one in that department. Then she asked me if I had specific price in mind for them. I told her I didn't; I was just looking to see how much I could get for them.

She excused herself to the back and returned puzzled, saying she could offer me $100. A HUNDRED DOLLARS?! I just laughed -- LOUDLY. Combined, the rings cost about $2,500. Now, I wasn't expecting to get anywhere near that amount for them at a pawn shop, but I did expect about $500. But no, she said "the guy in back" said that's all he could offer. She looked at me sympathetically and said she would have offered me a little more but that she didn't make the rules.

I thanked her for her time and left -- rings in hand. I laughed the entire way to the car. I was stunned.

Once my shock wore off, I thought more about the experience. Sitting in my jewelry box, the rings are worthless -- nothing more than a reminder of a relationship that should have ended long before it began. They remind me of the slew of broken promises and lies that sum up my marriage. Why on earth would I choose to keep them? It's not like I will ever wear them, pass them on to my daughter or anything else that could be construed as useful.

Why not give them to a pawnbroker for $100 so she can turn around and sell them for $1,000?

The answer is simple: pride.

Pride won't let me discount 14 years of my life. I knew when I walked into that shop that what I was doing amounted to setting a price tag on my marriage. I didn't expect to make a mint off the endeavor. It was more symbolic than anything. But I thought I could at least pay the legal fees for my divorce with it -- a fitting tradeoff, I thought. Though my marriage was flawed, it wasn't worthless. I learned a lot about myself during my time with Mr. Ex...a lot more than $100 could ever symbolize.

So for now, I will keep those rings, those silent reminders of broken promises and lies, in my jewelry box. I'm sure that one day, I will figure out a fitting use for them...but until then, they will stay safely in their spot. And I will work to achieve closure on that chapter of my life in other ways.