Summary: It's Valentine's Day and aside from the chocolate, I don't see the point. In grade school we swapped cards and candy, and if only for that first few minutes in class, everyone loved us. But we're grown up now, and things are different. We're swamped by diamond jewelry ads, talking Hallmark cards and teary-eyed commercials pandering to us all day long. Hmpf. My thing is: love is an around-the-clock, unmufflered affair in that it's noisy and indelicate and unlike anything Hollywood would have us believe. Love works us, heals us, and tips us like gravy boats, allowing our best flow out to the ones closest to us. It's confusing, deeply soaring, and when it's real, it could give a damn about greeting cards, candy and pop songs. The other day a frustrated friend texted me asking, HOW CAN I MAKE A MAN LIKE ME. To the extent that she was saying, All I want is a few good dates and not all of the mindgame-y aloof bs, she was kind of joking. And to the extent she was saying, What is wrong with me that I can't meet a guy who seems the least bit interested, she was absolutely not joking. My friend is representative of most women I know: she's smart, funny, loving, beautiful, super creative, one of a kind, kind and doubting how awesome she is. And that's what's upsetting. To the scary parts in all of us, to those scabbed-over wounded pieces lodged so dee that we've long forgotten they're there, let me just say, You rock, you look fabulous, and the world is waiting for you to show us how it's done. I want to say, Come on out and do your thing. Because we need you. And this: The fact that you doubt yourself sometimes means you're normal. I mean, look what we're up against with all of the messages that want us to believe the lies about what we can become. Oh, and this too I want to say: The fact that you have enough self-awareness and humility to think you've got room to grow is exactly the thing that makes you perfect! That plus the fact that you've got a great ass. My friend's question, again, representative of so many people's questions about the same thing, made me think about how rampant this idea of being unlovable is. I thought more about the messages we get that only serve to whack us in ads and magazines and songs. Pop songs. And bam, Whitney Houston. Pop's First Lady of Song, The Original Queen of the Night, may have gone on too soon, but she left me a soundtrack that would play out in the backdrop of my love life in all of its joy and nonsense, ecstasy and depth, and I'd like to share a little bit of it–and the lessons offered up in the process. I'm Saving All My Love for You There's this idea that we store up all the love in side us for the one day when that special someone rides into our lives on a chariot of fire, or on a crack of lightning, to deliver us into forever land. (insert losing game show buzzer sound here) I'm of 2 minds on this: 1.) It's better to share the love you have now rather than later. Everyone is worthy of love, and when we give it, it just makes us better. Period. Doesn't if feel good to get it? Then give it and watch how it boomerangs on you in surprising corners of your life. Why wait for The One before you start loving and living like you mean it? 2.) If this is about celibacy, then, yeah, handle your business. And keep on loving from your heart while you're at it! Why Does It Hurt So Bad Coming off of the celibacy thing, I realize this could be misconstrued in its meaning, but we're talking about heart here, folks. So knock it off. Beat it, you smartasses. Seriously. Ever been in love with someone who was about as loving as a feral dog trapped in a corner, baring its teeth at you? This is the equivalent of a wounded lover we're trying to rescue. Only we can't see it when we're in love with is potential. Trust me, this scenario isn't good for either of you, so spare yourself some hurt by holding out for the love you deserve. How Will I Know?
