Weddings are full of traditions, little poetic rules we inherit without questioning. Something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue.
But what about something… stolen?
Maybe it’s not the best idea to start a new bridal trend. Or maybe it is. I’ll let you decide.
Let me tell you about my earrings.
The earrings I wore on my wedding day were technically my “something borrowed”… that quietly became my something stolen.
They were my grandmother’s. Or rather, they are my grandmother’s. She passed them down to me in the most unplanned, slightly scandalous way. An inheritance in progress.
This happened more than fifteen years ago. I was getting ready for a family party, and my grandmother lent me a pair of earrings. As she handed them to me, she said:
“These earrings were given to me by your (tata) — he brought them back from a trip.”
And I remember looking at them… and thinking, very clearly:
I’m going to keep them.
A few days later, chaos.
My grandmother started accusing my aunts of stealing the earrings. One by one, innocent women under suspicion, dramatic energy filling the room. And I had no choice but to confess.
“Abuelita, you lent them to me. I have them… but I’m not giving them back.”
“Muchacha, devuélveme mis aretes.”
“No. Because when you pass away, they’re going to empty your house, and I live far away. I won’t get anything.”
It sounds terrible when I say it like that. It probably was terrible.
But we laughed. Oh, we laughed.
It became one of those family stories that lives forever, retold with a mix of disbelief and affection. A tiny act of rebellion wrapped in love.
And somehow, she let me keep them.
So when my wedding day came, there was no question. Those were the earrings. Not just because they were beautiful, but because they carried a story. A piece of my grandmother, my (tata), my younger, slightly shameless self.
My grandmother passed away recently. And even though she was still with us when I got married, her health had already taken away the kind of independence that would have let her be there.
I wore your earrings at my wedding, abue. The ones my grandfather gave you.
In a way, you were there.
They weren’t just an accessory. They were memory, mischief, and inheritance all at once.
So yes… my wedding had something blue, something borrowed… and something stolen.
And honestly? I wouldn’t change a thing. ✨
Photo by Angela Rodriguez @absor_ver📷