Happy Self Love Day

It doesn't take Valentine's Day for me to appreciate how lucky I am to to live such a happy life with a wonderful man, who loves me in a way I have never experienced before. In truth, the relationship Max and I share seems more a like a miracle because most of my adult life I didn't know love even though I had been married to another at a very young age.

I could write all about the horrible details of my first marriage to John--his jealous rages, intimidation tactics, emotional and physical abuse, even the murder of my dog. I might even be justified in using these words to blame him for the desperation and lonliness I felt those five long years we were together. But while it is true that I didn't do anything to John to justify his abusive treatment, I did share blame for marrying him in the first place.

How could I--the good-natured, golden girl who seemed to have it all-- end up with a loser like John? Why would I stay with a man who hurt me?

I spent years in therapy trying to figure out that one. But after much soul searching, I have come to a simple conclusion: I didn't love myself.

Don't get me wrong. Never a pessimist, I've always had a reasonably good feeling about who I was and what my future could hold. However, as a young woman, I always felt I needed to have a guy in my life to be truly happy. I wasn't enough for myself. I didn't feel I could create my own happinesses. And when my knight in shining armor didn't show up at first light to whisk me away to the land of happily ever after, I jumped at the first guy who came along.

Harsh, but true.

Sure, there were symptoms and signs of trouble early in the courtship, but I rationalized them out of my mind, unaware of how things would escalate as the years went on. Even though he wasn't "everything I ever wanted for myself," I compromised my standards because I didn't think I would ever do better and didn't give myself the time and space to find out.

And so, instead of love, I discovered the deepest sense of lonliness that comes when you are coupled with the wrong person.

For. Five. Years.

Yeah, I know.

So you might better understand why I feel as though I experienced a miracle in my life. It wasn't that I finally met a good man, who carried me off to a glamous life abroad. No. My miracle was learning to love myself, taking ownership of my own happiness, realizing I deserved everything I ever wanted, and, ultimately, not settling for anything less than a prince even if it took a really long time.

Why am I sharing this personal account of very painful memories? Because I have known friends and acquaintences who have settled for Mr. Right Now because they were tired of waiting for Mr. Right. I read blogs of many single women, who lament aspects of their relationshps, and I want to shake them. Why settle for anything less than what makes you completely happy? It doesn't matter if their stories don't turn out as extreme as mine was. When a person settles for less, he or she is showing a lack of self love.

Don't do it.

Happy Self Love Day to each and everyone. You deserve it!

Here are the rules is you want to participate.

HAPPY SELF-LOVE DAY!!
Feb. 13th & 14th, 2009
Here’s how the whole thing works:
1.) You’re gonna grab yourself a banner at Hilly's site.
2.) Post banner and then tell us all something that you really like love about yourself (thus, the “self-love” portion of our program).
3.) Ask or beg your readers to post one thing that they too love about you!!!  If your blog friends are nice, you shouldn’t have to beg…much.
4.)  Enjoy yourself and spread the love by doing this on your blog!  If you want to, drop me a line or a trackback so that I know you participated too!

Two days to go...

It's almost time to share the love! February 14th is known as Valentine's Day for many in the western world, but it is also Self Love Day in the blogsphere. If you'd like to learn how to participate, head over to Hilly's site to understand the rules and learn more.

Jet setters?

You understand #1 of my Things to Know post wasn't written about my husband, right?

I thought so. I just felt the need to make sure.

However, this statement sparked a lot of comment, and I've decided to share more about my experience having been coupled with, to put it mildly, the wrong person.

I plan to post it on Valentines Day. "Why Valentines Day," you ask.

Because February 14th is not just a day of hearts and flowers for those with a special someone. It is also Snackie's 3rd Annual Self Love Day, a day where we not only proclaim our love for those most important, but also for ourselves. I figure it will be an appropriate subject for Self Love Day because I got into that relationship, in part, because I didn't love myself enough. (By the way, I'll be posting the rules for Self Love Day in a few days, so stay tuned. )

Before I close this post, let me bring you up to speed on a few exciting developments in my life.

First, Max's company has agreed to provide us temporary housing in Barcelona until our new place is ready. So, I will be moving to Spain in just over a month.

We also learned that we might be able to get a small, corporate apartment in Milan, Italy because Max will be spending 50 percent of his time there and it might actually be cheaper than staying in a hotel. I already know a women, who has a place she'd like to rent. This might become a real possibility. We might have two places to call home, one in Spain and one in Milan. How cool would this be??

February 14: Self Love Day

Kismet, perhaps? Two separate events inspired today’s tale.

First, a recent post by the very witty Catherinette reminded me of something I wrote a couple Valentines ago. I contemplated whether to polish it up and bring it back for an encore posting as my Valentine to you, dear bloggers.

I was hesitant. Then, something happened to convince me to go ahead and re-post it. Through the virtual grapevine, I learned today is Snackie’s Self Love Day--an event any blogger, with or without Valentine, can happily celebrate. It’s a day where we not only proclaim our love for those most important, but also ourselves. If you’d like to participate, click on the link included or see the rules at the end of this post.

This concept of loving yourself is one I learned many Valentines ago. Before Max, most of my forty, forty-one Valentines have been anything but hearts and flowers. And so you know just how unromantic past holidays have been, I share this tale from February 14, 1985.

Back in the day when big hair and even bigger shoulder pads were all the rage on campus, Franklin County High, my old stomping grounds, accepted floral deliveries on Valentine's Day. Given the fact this countywide school boasted a student population of over 1500, the administration had to make no fewer than three 20-minute announcements throughout the day, requesting lucky gift recipients drop by the administration building to pick up their prizes.

Trust me—February 14 was the one day out the entire school year when you actually wanted to hear your name on the loud speaker followed by the words, "Please come to the principal's office." On this holiday, you would have thought the high school’s announcer was Bob Barker. And although she never verbalized it, you could tell each young lass was secretly whispering, “Pick me! Pick me!“

It seemed like every girl, even the otherwise unpopular, got picked expect one-- me, also know as Dead Girl Without Valentine Walking.

As students rendezvoused at lockers to sneak a quick smooch with the objects of their affection, I skulked through the narrow halls humiliated and empty-handed. Year one, I blamed the problem on being a freshman--there just hadn't been time to acquire a boyfriend. But by my junior year, with neither a Valentine nor a valid excuse, I could tolerate the humiliation no longer.

Because I worked at my father's restaurant most nights, I had a lot of expendable capital for a girl my age. And so for my 17th Valentine’s Day, I decided to use my earnings to warm up the coldest day of the year by sending a dozen red roses to myself.

That day, I beamed when I heard Mrs. Bateman call my name over the loud speakers. She really did sound like Bob Baker.

"Who sent you flowers?" the curious asked.

"It was a secret admirer!" I flaunted the hand-written card in people’s faces and pretended to gush, my acting worthy of an Oscar.

I adored the attention the delivery brought me. It didn't matter that I had to be my own Valentine. As far as anyone else knew, I was among the cherished few specifically chosen by FTD.

Sadly, however, my thrill ended before I got home from school. You see, I couldn't bear to have my nosey sister discover what I had done and subsequently ditched the long-stemmed dozen in the dumpster down the road from where I lived.

Still, this all-time Valentine's charade reaped wonderful benefit. In its aftermath I learned a couple important lessons. First, there wasn't any harm in being my own Valentine. Second, I didn't need anyone else to validate that I was lovable. I just was. I never again pretended to have a special someone. Single or not, I was already special.

In the years since that Valentine, despite broken relationships and failed marriages, I've never forgotten these lessons of my youth. And just to make sure, I treat myself to fresh flowers or a box of chocolates every February 14th and never feel a twinge of silliness in doing so.

Now show your self-love…

1.) Post a self-love banners on your blog and declare February 14th as the day you not only love your one and only, but the day that you love yourself!
2.) Post one nice thing about yourself......then ask others to post one thing that they really like about you.
3.) Enjoy yourself!