New York was quiet emotional for me. I received news that led me to the decision of closing my practice.
A decision that was necessary; but upsetting. The feeling that I'm letting people that I not only care about but adore down is unbearable. Part of me is happy and another part of me has so much sorrow. I didn't realize the extent of how upset I was until I walked into Tiffany's.
PIB and I had just finished eating a breakfast waffle with Vanilla Bean ice cream and fresh cut strawberries. A stroll and some pictures in Central Park lead us through a loop. We saw two police officers on horses and reminded us of our good friend Kara. I took several shots of the horses for her and we strolled back to Fifth Ave.
We walked past Apple and so more high end shops, into the revolving doors between two large American Flags.
Tiffany's was just as I remembered it and the first floor is spectacular. The most clear of diamonds that you could imagine. The glass cases are so clean. The body guards are large in their black suits. The clerks in their black skirts and pinned back hair. Do you know that not very long ago woman weren't allowed to stand behind the counter to sell the jewelry? Now the woman dominate the counters and are stunning. I think they fit you to determine your size when they consider your application. You have to reach a perfection of beauty mark on their scale in order to be considered for a position.
The ceilings are high and the rooms are large. Tiffany's has six levels. First level isn't for anyone who can actually afford it. The necklaces and rings start at $10,000 and no one feels bad walking straight through the first floor to the elevators. The elevators are manned. A guard stands outside and there is a "door man" on each of the elevators. Once you step on, the "door man" asks which floor you'd like to go to. Normally, most people are going to one of two floors. Either floor three or six. Floor six is common for the men. Its a refreshment lounge. A place the men can sit and be waited on while their partners pounce from floor to floor. Floor three is really the only floor an average person will stop at as its their 935 Silver collection. Floor two is engagement and floor four is wedding registry and home wares and floor five is customer service.
I normally feel no pain asking to go straight to floor three. As the elevator ascended and each passing second took us closer to our destination, I felt overwhelmed with tears. We stepped off the elevator, along with several other people and I sort of stopped. Normally, I peruse around the glass boxes and just look at all the stunning, cheap jewelry. I tend to look for rings and necklaces. But this time, since the boy was there, I quickly skimmed the walls, not looking at anything. I went straight to the back where they have their charm bracelets and looked through them. It was easier to look at the charms, because I've never wanted a charm bracelet and it was easy to look at the ugly things. I was trying to contain my emotions as I could feel tears welling up in my chest. I was also interested in seeing the Great Gatsby jewels. I took a moment to skim the boxes set out to showcase the pieces and then I turned to PIB and said, okay lets go. I didn't fully hear his question, but I know at one point he asked me "go go or do you want to stop on floor two?"
I responded go go and rushed to the elevator. It was all I could do to smile at the door man. On floor one, I rushed past everyone with their blue bags and heard the front door man say to a few of the woman leaving, "all smiles I see" and the woman responded with a statement that pushed me over the edge. Her statement, "All girls can leave here smiling when everyone can leave with a blue bag." I rushed out onto Fifth Ave and started crying.
I couldn't help it. The decision of the week to close the practice, the realization that I wouldn't be able to independently afford anything from there again. PIB had no idea what was going on and probably thought I was crazy. He gave me a tight hug and asked me what was wrong. I can't imagine what was going through his head, and through my tears, I tried to picture what he was thinking. I just said to him, not now please? He took my hand gave me a kiss on the my forehead and lead me back down the street.
I later explained to the boy my tears:
Nathan and I weren't able to afford anything. When we got married, I bought my ring the day before the wedding, from Kings. It was an ugly gold ring to match my engagement ring. We struggled and I always made more money than Nathan. Even when we couldn't afford it, we bought him things to make him happy. By the time I had the practice up and running, I made every attempt to pay my employees well. I didn't take much money off the top of the practice. No one, I told him, has ever bought me anything from Tiffany's. Tiffany's is my thing. When I was finally able to afford something from there; I knew I earned it myself. I had given to everyone else and I still had money left over to by myself a $300 pendant from there. The next purchase was a $500 ring. This, to me, meant that I had made it. I myself had proven that I didn't need anyone else and I was self sustaining. I did it. No degree, nothing but hands on experience.
Now though, now, I can't afford anything in there. I'm in debt; some people have earned the money I owe them; others not so much. But the fact is I'm in debt. Over my head in debt. I paid off Nathans debt only to be back into debt. I had planned on being set by the time I was 30. I was almost there too! One month and I would have made it.
I thought I would try and fix the practice. But I can't. I can't bear to be here in this country. I can't keep giving and being unhappy. I have to choose me. But I come with a price. I feel like I've become so shallow loving name brands and such. I never felt like I was on a high horse, and that I was self absorbed. I never felt like I had money or that I over indulged. But at the end of the day, the fact remains that knowing I couldn't purchase anything on the third floor of Tiffany's was painful. The fact that I have given away more Tiffany gifts than I have purchased for myself and that I won't be able to do that anymore, hurt. The pain was deep and took me by surprise. I can't determine if this pain is because I'm shallow and living in an ivory tower; or because my symbol of success has been washed away with my decision to find a way to live in a different country.
WORSE! The boy knows how much I love Tiffany's and my brands. I would never want him to feel like he could never measure up because he wouldn't be able to afford anything from there. Its not about him or anyone else giving me Tiffany's. I would never expect it. I wouldn't want him to feel like he has to work his ass off to buy me something from there. Its about me and my symbolism of success. My own idea of getting to where I'm going.
I'll rebuild; blah blah blah. I don't want to hear it. The best thing anyone has told me about this situation: Ruby
Beautiful Ruby. Simply beautiful. I can't tell you how I'm holding that quote dear to my heart. I can't tell you how much that simple post meant to me. You Ruby, are beautiful and I love you so deeply because of this simple piece of advice. So with that, I take my pain, and put it into a beautiful blue box, that I already own, and I will remind myself that I will end up right where I need to be.
Tiffany's or no Tiffany's, I'll get there.
