06/05/2026
As June’s birthstone, alexandrite has always fascinated me. Its ability to change color feels a little magical, which makes its rarity even more special.
This is my alexandrite story.
The first alexandrite I ever owned was a gift from my husband, Andrew, on Valentine’s Day 2014, just a month after our third child was born (I call her v3.0).
Ironically, I thought I’d owned one years before. My parents gave me what I believed was an alexandrite ring for my bat mitzvah. I remember carrying it from room to room, holding it under different lights, waiting for that magical color change everyone talked about. It never happened. I was convinced I had somehow ended up with a defective alexandrite.
Years later, I learned the truth. It wasn’t an alexandrite at all. It was an amethyst. Alexandrites were simply too rare and expensive at the time, and my parents didn’t have the heart to tell me.
So when I finally received a real alexandrite, it felt even more special. Not just because of the stone itself, but because of the story that came with it.
Maybe that’s why I’ve always believed the most meaningful pieces aren’t defined by what they are. They’re defined by the memories attached to them.
