On Consignment

I signed a contract today, putting my never-worn wedding dress on consignment.  It felt so strange to be in a place where most people are overflowing with joy and anticipation, but instead, I focused on my feet so as not to see all the wedding portraits, bridal magazines, and other wedding artifacts.  It was all a brutal reminder of what did not happen in my life a few months ago. 

I managed to hold in the tears until I exited the establishment, but then they came.  Another surge of grief over the dreams I'd held so close that are not going to come true. 

Consignment.  Handing something over that is precious to me, with no guarantee I'll get anything in return for it.  Hoping that someone else will also see the value in it and compensate accordingly.  Seems ironic to me.  It's kind of what I did when I said yes to that marriage proposal.  I gave someone my heart, access to every dusty corner of my life, every skeleton in my closet, and gave unlimited access to all of the wonderful things I have to offer as a partner in life.  In return, I hoped those treasures would be deemed valuable and would be worth another person's investment. 

How did that turn out?  It depends who you ask I suppose, or which day you ask.  It didn't turn out like I hoped or planned.  At times I think that what I wanted was very simple: to be treated with love and respect.  To me, that covers every dealbreaking behavior I can fathom.  At other times I think I want something that is impossible to find.  But at the end of the day, if a value or offer is made in exchange for what I have on the table, and the two are not similar in value, then someone is losing.

Consignment is a bit of a gamble.  It could be that your valued item is returned to you, that no one wants to pay any price for it, that it is only beautiful to you.  Or maybe someone isn't willing to care for what's been entrusted to them in a way that is fair.  The good news in all of this is that you are free to keep whatever it is you put on the table.  I'd rather keep a beautiful dress in my closet and never wear it, than to be offered rotten worms or pickles or snot-encrusted tissues in return for it.  And as for my heart, I'd rather keep it, know its worth, and share it with those who value it, than to loan it out for a poor return on my investment.