So, I was thinking about those Tiffany and Company ornaments the other day. You know the ones. Shiny silver, often with that little blue ribbon, tucked inside the famous blue box. For the longest time, I kind of saw them as a symbol. Like, if you had one hanging on your tree, you’d really arrived, or something.
My Own Little Blue Box Story
I actually got one years ago. It was a gift. I remember the whole deal – the fancy bag, untying the white ribbon on the box, pulling out the little felt pouch. It was one of those classic sterling silver ones, I think it was a snowflake or something equally festive. Felt pretty special at the time, I won’t lie. I hung it right at the front of the tree that year.
But here’s the thing…
After that first year, it started to feel different. Packing it away carefully, then bringing it out again the next Christmas… the shine wasn’t quite the same. Not the silver’s shine, I mean, but the idea of it. It started to just feel like another decoration. A heavier, more expensive one, sure, but still just a thing.
This all happened around a time when I was really caught up in, well, appearances. Had this job that looked great on paper. Good title, decent money. Everyone thought I was doing great. But honestly? I was miserable. Long hours, stressed out, constantly feeling like I wasn’t measuring up, always chasing the next thing I thought would make me feel like I’d ‘made it’.
- Working late nights.
- Missing out on stuff with friends and family.
- Basically running on fumes.
That ornament, that little piece of shiny silver, kind of got tangled up in that feeling. It represented that whole phase of trying too hard, focusing on the external stuff instead of what was actually going on inside. Trying to project an image that didn’t match the reality.
It’s funny how objects can do that, right? They become anchors for memories or feelings. I remember one evening after a particularly awful day at that job, I was putting up the Christmas tree, feeling totally drained. I pulled out the Tiffany box, looked at the ornament, and just felt… empty. It clicked then. This shiny thing didn’t fix the burnout. It didn’t make the stress go away. It was just an ornament.
Where It Is Now
I left that job eventually. Took a while to sort things out, figure out what actually mattered more than the fancy title or the appearance of success. Life got simpler, and honestly, a lot better.
The ornament? It’s still around. Tucked away in its little blue box in the attic with the other Christmas stuff. I don’t always hang it up anymore. Sometimes I do, sometimes I forget. It’s not that I dislike it. It’s just… its meaning changed. It’s less a symbol of ‘making it’ and more a reminder of that weird time, and how easy it is to get caught up chasing shiny things that don’t really satisfy you. Just a little piece of silver, you know?
