Be Your Own Lover
There are sources online where one can easily find February declared “Self-Care” or “Self-Love” month. I don’t know that it’s official, but it sounds good to me. Self-Care is actually my “word of the year”, if you go for that kind of thing, and if you are cool with a hyphenated “word”. This is the first time I’ve adopted a word of the year and this one seems like a good one to start with. “Get some rest. If you haven’t got your health, you haven’t got anything.” (Count Rugen, AKA Tyrone, The Princess Bride)
Whether you call it Valentine’s, Galentine’s, or Foulentine’s Day, it’s here. And whether you go for broke or keep it short ’n sweet, I have a tiny suggestion. Actually, it might be a great big boss of a suggestion.
Be your own dang lover.
There, I said it. Now, I’m not talking about what you do behind closed doors or between the sheets; that’s nobody’s business but yours! Please. I’m talking about self-love. Being your biggest fan. Loving your life. And if you don’t quite love your life, at least love where it’s headed, what you’re working on or dreaming of, who you spend your time with. (And that includes your four-legged friends!) Elizabeth Taylor said it best:
I love dogs and I like horses just fine, but my leading man is my best friend and husband of 25 years. We’re stupid lucky and hella blessed. He’s six years older than I am and had a good chunk of life experience on me when we met. But I knew straight up nothing. Barely out of high school, all I knew for sure was that I was going with my heart on this one. It has been an amazing quarter of a century and I can only hope for another. But let me be clear; we have struggled together, grown together, learned together, and celebrated together. We have witnessed each other at our best and at our worst. God bless that man who stays with me through it all! Marilyn Monroe said, “If you can’t handle me at my worst, you don’t deserve me at my best”. Lord knows he deserves my best ’cause he has put up with some batshit crazy! So perhaps more accurately, this twisted version really gets at it:
Unfortunately, I can’t say that I take as good a care of myself as I do my family. I adore my husband and my kids, and now my little Payton. I would do anything for them. I’m affectionate toward them. I care for and nurture them, as if my life depends on it. But I don’t adore myself. I’m not affectionate with me. I don’t care for and nurture myself like crazy. And I should. We all should.
According to Google, “love” is defined as “an intense feeling of deep affection” and “a great interest and pleasure in something”.
That’s what today is all about. Just love. At the very least, self-love.
If, like me, you have been lucky enough to find love out there, then great. You are lucky enough! Perhaps you have been blessed to find this more than once. Wow! Or maybe you haven’t found it just yet. In any case, we should all own this at least for ourselves.
The husband and I have picked up a few “private jokes” along the way, as people do when they spend this much time in close quarters. Many come directly from pop culture. Like when I have a color choice to make, we both know I’m gonna say “I like de’ black one.” (a chica named Chi Chi, played by Mary Gross, debating with Consuela, played by Julia Louis-Dreyfus, which was the best Ghostbuster, SNL). Seriously, a jacket, a vehicle, a picture frame; I like de’ black one every time. But I digress. Another one is from the Kevin Costner movie, Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves. When Little John meets up with his wife, Fanny, as Robin and his men infiltrate Nottingham Castle, the two greet each other with “Ello my lover”, of course in the proper accent. We say it, text it, modify it on a daily basis. Always makes me smile. (He smiles on the inside.)
My gift to you this Valentine’s Day is a little reminder art. Give it to your lover, your mother, or keep it for yourself to remind you exactly who loves who. We are each our own lovers every day.
Choose letter size, 8x10”, or 5x7” and pick your fave layout.
And as always, Celebrate Every Day.