I’m in the kitchen of a 9 bedroom house, having lunch with X.
She is my confidant, my safe place when life gets complicated or when something warrants celebration.
She is sitting across from me at the kitchen island. Looking around, it’s clear she lives comfortably. Having seen her properties around the world, it’s not hard to believe she is a multi-millionaire.
You would never know, looking at her and the cars in the driveway. You see, falling under the radar is the current name of the game. Dress like a polished version of an average Jane or Joe Soccer.
Don’t believe me?
Look south of the border at how millionaires and billionaires dress. Hoodies, jeans and hipster sneakers are a must in Silicon Valley - one of the richest regions in North America. Throw on a blazer if the occasion calls for it.
Back in the kitchen with X - she and I devour the last of her homemade tacos. They’re delicious. I get up from my seat and head to the sink to wash my hands. I take off my ring and apply tap water and generous amounts of hand soap. 20 seconds-rinse. Covid has trained me well.
When I get back to my seat, I show X the new ring I picked up over the weekend.
The colors are vibrant. It glitters under the bright ceiling lights.
It’s $2000 (cnd) worth of shine. Something I could wear day-to-day without having to worry about scratching it. Seeing the colors brings me so much joy.
Unlike the 3-carat diamond ring that sits quietly in the safety deposit box. The one that doesn’t match my style on most days despite its size, shine and clarity. It comes out when I need to impress people who are impressed by those kinds of things. Not that there’s anything wrong with that.
Diamonds simply don’t work for me. That kind of sparkle and I are more like sisters than soulmates.
The new ring however, the moment I saw it, I knew there and then, it would join me in my journey, intimate and close.
I decided to buy it myself - as a birthday present.
A few days ago when I told Z about the ring, he offered to buy it for me. I smiled, shook my head and thanked him for his generosity.
Why - you might ask?
Whenever I wear it - I want to be reminded of the sweat and tears as well as the joy and triumphs that have become part of MY STORY. The ring represents a passage of time, my death-like struggles and hard-earned growth.
Because of its very personal meaning, the ring simply can’t be bought by anyone other than me. With my own money. On my own terms.
The ring is a reminder that I am the main driver of my own life.
Years ago when I was still a student, I asked a high school teacher to sign my yearbook in the last week of June. Honestly I was expecting a mere HAGS. Very common among teachers.
After he finished, I popped the yearbook in my backpack and walked home. A few days later when I finally got a chance to read the comments, I was surprised to see what he wrote under my name -
I expect great things from you.
For some reason, those words stayed with me all these years.
It gives me pause - there’s someone out there who thinks I’m more than a pretty face. That I can do more in life than merely throw myself on a ThighMaster. That I can choose what I do, how I do it and who to collaborate with - to make the world a better place.
Thinking back, I’ve always wondered what my teacher had in mind.
What great things could look like…
When it might happen...
You wouldn’t happen to know, would you?