Wearing Love: The Timeless Bond Between Jewelry and the Heart
There is something ancient and aching about the way we give jewelry to one another.
A pendant pressed into a lover’s palm before a long departure. A grandmother’s ring slipped onto a trembling finger at a reunion, like mine was recently by my uncle in France who so graciously gifted me a ring he made for my grandmother, Lily, and that she herself wore. A gold locket holding a lock of baby hair. A chain worn close to the heart because the giver’s arms are now too far away.
Throughout history, jewelry has been far more than adornment. It has been a vessel for emotion. A tangible way to say what words can’t always hold. “I love you.” “I remember you.” “I choose you.” “You mattered.” “Don’t forget me.”
Each piece carries a fingerprint of connection.
Love Passed Down: Generations of Meaning
In nearly every culture, jewelry is passed from parent to child - birthstones gifted to mark a new life, bracelets engraved with names or dates, tiny gold earrings put on by steady, loving hands. This is how we root our children in memory, in legacy, in lineage. We pass down the story of our family in metal and stone.
When our mothers give us jewelry, it is often accompanied by a softness we only occasionally see in them because the list of responsibilities for a mother are so tremendous. A ring once worn on her wedding day. A necklace she bought with her first paycheck. It’s not just the object, but the moment. The unspoken hope: May this bring you strength. May you feel my love, always.
Jewelry Between Lovers: An Embrace Made of Gold
Few tokens of love are as classic or as enduring as the giving of jewelry between romantic partners. Engagement rings. Anniversary bangles. Necklaces exchanged on moonlit vacations. Matching tattoos may be modern, but carved initials inside a band or behind a locket’s clasp have whispered devotion for centuries.
Even ancient Egyptians believed in the eternal symbolism of the circle
There’s something intimate in wearing someone’s gift against your body. A kiss you never have to take off.
Best Friends, Forever Marked
Friendship, too, finds form in jewelry. We give it when we can’t always give our time. A charm added to a shared bracelet. A necklace with matching halves. A token from a trip taken together or a trip only dreamed of. It says: You’re with me, even when you’re not.
In Victorian times, friends exchanged “mizpah” jewelry, which was inscribed with a biblical phrase: “The Lord watch between me and thee, when we are absent one from another.”
Even now, we give friendship bracelets with a quiet reverence, whether they are beaded in childhood or gold-plated in adulthood. My own children thought their best friends ying and yang necklaces while we were in Nice and they have carefully tucked them away in eager anticipation of returning home and gifting them. It’s a way to say: You matter to me. You are in my thoughts even when we are far apart. Always.
Love for Self: A Private Celebration
But not all jewelry is given by others. Some of the most meaningful pieces are chosen for ourselves.
A promotion. A heartbreak overcome. A birthday celebrated alone but not lonely. A divorce survived. A child born after struggle. A quiet decision to finally love ourselves.
We buy jewelry to remember who we were AND who we became. We wear it not for the world, but for the reflection in the mirror. For the reminder that we are worthy and the mark we are making in the world has meaning.
I used to buy myself a special pair of earrings every time I hit a major milestone at work. I wear those earrings whenever I need a reminder that I can do hard things. That my contributions are making a difference in my own life and in the lives of others.
Mourning Jewelry: Grief Cast in Gold
But not all jewelry marks a joyful occasion. Some is a reminder of people we’ve lost. We know that love doesn’t end with death. It lingers and it haunts and it asks to be remembered.
In the 18th and 19th centuries, mourning jewelry was a common and cherished tradition. Rings with braided locks of hair. Brooches etched with names and dates. Jet beads strung together in sorrow and style. Some even featured miniature portraits of the deceased or urn-shaped pendants filled with ashes.
To modern eyes, these pieces may seem macabre. But to those who wore them, they were sacred. A way to keep the dead close. To feel the weight of memory against the chest. When I come across these pieces, I don’t shy away from them because they don’t represent someone I loved myself. I envelope them because they are reminders that our lives and our impact on others will continue throughout time. We will not be forgotten when our time comes to an end. And we can celebrate each other even if we never met. (I do have a ritual I do to cleanse negative energy from these pieces, if it exists, which I’m happy to share. Just ask.)
Even now, we keep our loved ones alive in initials engraved on a watch. In the silhouette of a pendant. In a face etched onto a signet. In the stones that whisper: You are not forgotten.
The Unspoken Language of Love
Jewelry is silent, but it speaks volumes.
It tells of anniversaries, of heartbreaks, of promises made and sometimes broken. It marks the moment we said “yes.” The moment we said goodbye. The moment we chose to begin again.
Its value is never just in gold or carat. It’s in the story. The sentiment. The soul.
We give it not just to adorn, but to anchor. To remember. To remind.
Because love - real love - is not always screamed from the rooftops. Sometimes it’s a bracelet tucked into a drawer. A ring worn thin with time. A pair of earrings that always made her feel beautiful.