When Affection Isn’t Mutual

I had been sitting in Barney’s for half of the day with my favorite fragrance connoisseur narrowing down incredible, exclusive fragrances to find “the” one that represented him. After hours of fragrance stories, note descriptions, and pairing, I took one inhale of the exclusive Italian cocktails, and was whisked into the embrace of the one my heart had fallen hard for. The bottle was wrapped beautifully and paired with three handwritten cards, a book he mentioned casually over cocktails, and the bow tie that had been on the wish list for over a year.

My shipping label assured me of an early morning Valentines Day delivery. The day came and went.

My excitement turned into worry and concern.

Five days of worry and concern later, I reached out to him, with what I like to call final statements.

“Babe, I’m so sorry. I got busy and forgot to let you know …”

As I sit writing this article in the lounge of the W Hotel in Atlanta, Georgia, I cannot help but grin.

This is the first year in 15 years that I’m not grieving a breakup, a lost marriage, or rejection.

Do I still cry myself to sleep at night and dream of knowing what it feels like to be chosen? Of course.

Yet in the process, I have learned that for far too long my text to myself was, “Babe I’m so sorry, I got busy and forgot to let you know how much you matter.”

I forgot to choose me.

I forgot to love me.

I forgot that “to love thyself” is not a suggestion, but rather a command.

Last week I went and sat in Nordstrom for half of the day with my favorite fragrance connoisseur narrowing down incredible, exclusive fragrances to find “the” one that represented the one that mattered. After hours of fragrance stories, note descriptions, and pairings, I took one inhale of the beautiful cocktail, and was whisked into the embrace of the one my heart is learning to fall hard for. The bottle was wrapped beautifully and paired with three handwritten cards that I shipped to myself.

Be it a fragrance and handwritten cards, or finally doing that thing that makes your heart sing, I encourage you to choose yourself this season.

What sets your heart on fire?

Is it art? Is it music? Is it volunteer work? Whatever it is, learn it. Do it. Perform it. Just agree with yourself to not invite anyone else to the date. This is a date for one, and it’s the best kind.

Choose to give yourself your kind attention.

Be willing to learn the art of self love.

Perhaps over hours of fragrance stories, someone will watch you love yourself and decide to finish the second half of the command, “to love thy neighbor as thyself.”