There are the single, disappointed people. They don't have "someone" to love. And then the "together" disappointed people "oh he forgot..." or "I got her X but, she hated it..." Not everyone is disappointed, by any means. But, sometimes all of that pressure seems to obscure the idea that the holiday is "supposed" to about love. DON'T ANYBODY MESS UP, OR YOUR PARTNER WILL KNOW THAT YOU DON'T REALLY CARE ABOUT THEM.
Geeze, that's intense. Not to mention gendered.
If you've been listening to the radio or watching TV, then you are probably fully aware that if you are not a man proposing to a woman, or a woman being proposed to by a man, there is something very much missing from your holiday.
It doesn't feel like there's a lot of space for individualized or personalized love. I mean, if you're not doing it the "right way," you're apparently missing out. If diamonds aren't your best friend, you've missed some important lesson in the woman handbook.
Someone asked me the other night if my boyfriend and I were in love. I shrugged, and said "I guess so." My two friends looked at each other and then laughed at me: "she guesses so!" Then the same person asked how long he'd been my boyfriend. I shrugged again. "It depends on who you ask," I said, in between bites of kale. "I started calling him my boyfriend about a week ago. He's been referring to himself as my boyfriend for several months." My two friends just stared at me, perhaps unsure if I was joking or not, because apparently that was not a... common answer. (Perhaps especially coming from a woman?)
But it made me smile a little inside, because the truth is that when your brother shoots himself in the head unexpectedly one night, you don't get to fall in love like "normal" people do. Any chance for a honeymoon or fawning over each other or playing footsie is lost in tears and confusion and anger and tears and devastation. I smiled because somehow I magically got to be with someone who was OK with me taking my time. Not just taking my time, but taking side detours and roundabouts and u-turns.Yeah, I was kind of too busy grieving to do a whole lot else. And while I was grateful that I somehow had a companion through some of it, the truth was that I had to process pretty much all of it for myself. In my own time, and in my own way. It was in many ways a very solitary process.
And I'm still not done with it.
So this Valentine's day, I guess technically I'm in the camp of the "haves." But I don't feel like a have. I feel like I've lost a lot.
I keep fundraising in my brother's memory, which gives me something constructive to do. By raising money in his honor, I like to think that I'm somehow doing something good in the world amidst a lot of devastation. And we've already raised $1,481.00, which is a good start towards of raising $10,000.00. Through giving, I do feel a sense of love.
Somehow though I think we've mostly been conditioned to believe there is more love in receiving a dozen roses than in giving love. Which is probably a big part of why disappointment is so omnipresent in this holiday for so many people.
Somewhere along the way, we have learned, especially as women, that love is something bestowed upon us. It is what gives us worth. And while yeah, I don't want to be with the guy who can't be troubled to make me feel special either, I question the importance of being made to feel special in this way.
So regardless of which camp you're in, the "haves" or the "have nots" this holiday, there is one more thing I advocate for on every day of the year. For everyone. But especially on Valentine's Day.
Listen to all of your favorite love songs, or just whatever ones come on the top 40 station you maybe normally roll your eyes at. And imagine they're all being sung by you, to yourself. (I'm completely serious. I do this all the time).
There are very few songs on the radio that don't make me cringe when I think of them being sung by one person to another:
"Girl let me love you, until you learn to love yourself." Really? That sounds like a plan that is not going to work out, buddy.
Or "we found love in a hopeless place" -- Rihanna, I'm sorry, but you and Chris Brown make me uncomfortable. Because you are amazing. And he's an abuser. And I'm sad for you. I don't want to judge, but, no, unless that man has become an anti-violence against women advocate, just, no.
But, what if even just those two songs were sung to yourself?
Because, I think a lot of people struggle with loving themselves (and as a result, others) unconditionally. What if no matter how badly you felt, or how ashamed or how unworthy, you found a way to love yourself. Completely.
I'm pretty sure a dozen roses would seem a lot less important...
And I'm pretty sure that being loved would shade in comparison to your desire TO LOVE. Because you would already know that you were loved. So now you can finally share that. Wholeheartedly. You don't need anything in exchange. You've got that covered.
I'm not advocating martyrdom, or one-sided relationships. I'm talking about all of us going out into the world already filled to the brim with love, because we know we are loved and we are worthy of complete love, and we can share that experience and knowledge with others.
If there was anything I wish I could go back and give to my brother, that would be it.
But it's also what I want for myself.
And for all of you.
Whether you get flowers or chocolates today or not.
Because we're all worthy to absolute pieces of love. And not the kind that dies in a week and has to be thrown in the trash. So maybe you can listen to this song and imagine if it were true from you to yourself. Because when I sit on my cushion each morning, this is exactly the kind of garden in my mind I am trying to cultivate and carry with myself everywhere.
Namaste.
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