give your heart is flowers
On February 1st, I pulled up to my apartment after spending the afternoon with a girlfriend. When I arrived home, the sun hadn’t fully set, and it was surprisingly warm for this time of year. I was buzzing with excess energy. So I dropped my stuff off inside, put in my headphones, and went out for a long walk.
As I was walking something compelled me to bust out an old playlist, titled "luv n lust". I made this playlist several years back, at a time when I was newly in love and it was all I could think about.
I walked for miles to the soundtrack of r&b songs with lyrics equally sensual and romantic. My hips swayed with those melodies resonating in my body. Each song had me reminiscing about past lovers, memories, and feelings that haven’t quite left me.
I wasn’t sure what brought on this mood, but it felt good.
The next day, 2/2, I decided to set up a little picnic for myself in the park. It had gotten even warmer outside and the sun was shining bright. I gazed at my surroundings through the rosy hue of my pink shades, feeling completely at ease. A different playlist rang in my ears, but with the same romantic vibe as the day before.
I looked down and noticed my pink phone case, pink shoes, pink nail polish, pink bag…and it dawned on me…
It’s February. Love month. Without realizing it, the Valentine’s spirit had come over me.
I chuckled at myself for being so…me.
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All my life I’ve been a little obsessed with love.
Romantic stories, crushes, the dynamics between lovers, wondering “what is love, really”…this is the stuff of my mind, and has been for as long as I can remember.
That obsession with love, some could argue, has gotten me into some not-so-great situations. My love-curiosity has led me to explore relationships that may not have been the best for me, or led to heartbreak.
I admit, my obsession with love has been a bit exhausting at times.
And yet, I find myself, surrounded by pink, thinkin’ about love. Feeling most myself.
At this age, I’ve come to the conclusion that this is just who I am. I must have been born with a proclivity to love. They say to “take off the rose-colored glasses,” and “beware of romanticizing life,” but I think I may be unable to help it.
However, the way I think about love has changed, and expanded...
When I was younger, it used to be that all of my romantic energy went towards whatever man I chose. And if I didn’t have one presently, my romantic energy went towards looking for him.
Now, after many different relationships, and years of experience as a dater, partner, lover, and human who longs for love, I’ve learned that love, and romance, are much greater than one relationship between two people.
Love and romance are ways of being. It can’t really be boxed in because it can exist in so many places.
Romance exists between me and my female friends.
We love one another, flirt at times, and make each other feel like the most gorgeous, capable queens. We give each other flowers and gifts and send “just thinkin bout you” texts. It’s made life more rich and full to extend my loving energy to my girlfriends more and more, and receive it in return.
Romance exists in the ways I care for myself.
I make my baths beautiful altars for self-love, lining the edge of the tub with candles, fresh eucalyptus, and a big glass of lemon water. I massage my traps when they get tense. I take myself on vacations, staycations, and little dates. My self care has become another container for my desire to express love and romance.
Romance exists in the beauty of life.
When I say “beauty”, I don’t mean a narrow, or societally accepted definition of the word. I’m talking about the beauty of sunlight hitting a blade of grass. The beauty of witnessing someone help a stranger. The beauty of someone you love’s laughter. The beauty in the way a butterfly floats from flower to flower. Even the beauty that is born out of pain, roses that grow from concrete.
It can all be romantic.
The memories, the things I notice, the seeking, the trying to understand…the basking in all things that keep me in love.
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My heart has become very resilient over the years. I’m able to take a little more heartbreak than I used to. And, it seems that each heartbreak has expanded my heart more, and more, and more. Making it both stronger, and capable of feeling the immense vulnerability and expansive nature of true Love.
This Valentine’s Day, I am really grateful for my heart. I’m grateful for all the times it’s been broken, and reassembled with wisdom, discernment, and faith. I’m grateful that I was wrong about love all those years ago, when I thought all my love should go to “the one”. Love is bigger than just one. It’s many. It’s infinite within myself, and all around me.
I think people often hate this holiday because either they think it’s a corporate scam, or because they’re single and feel the pressure of not being in a relationship.
I’m not gonna argue that capitalism has its hands in Valentine’s day, I’ll give you that.
BUT even if you didn’t spend a dime, or if you’re not currently in love with a person or in a partnership, this day can be a day to commemorate love and its importance.
Love deserves to be honored. Your heart, your personal ability to feel, give, and receive love, is worth celebrating. Give your heart its flowers. (Figuratively, or literally if you wanna be extra romantic.)
And finally, if you have a hard time with this holiday, and you’re just not feeling the love, or the motivation to love yourself today, remember that love is action. So even if you’re not feeling it, doing something kind and caring for yourself is an expression of love,
Sending you so much love,
Carly