Journey Back to Loving Me
Part 1: Valentine's Day & The Boxes We Check
V-Day
It’s February, which means it’s Black History Month. That’s the thing I tend to focus on mostly in February. But it is also Valentine’s Day--you know, that day to celebrate love. I’ve never been one to get into commercialized holidays much, especially this one. It always seemed like overkill and an excuse to buy things we didn’t really need.
As my kids got older and starting going to preschool I realized:
1. That mommy wars are real.
2. My kids take all holidays seriously.
3. Maybe there was something okish about celebrating commercialized holidays.
I had no idea folks did entire goodie bags, that put my little folded card to shame. Eventually, I told myself I’m not participating in mommy wars, (that is after a few years of giving in and making goodie bags myself). Now I found my medium and allow my kids to pick out a box of cards and maybe a treat or something to go with it. Although the kids like getting that bag full of sweets, I was always surprised at how they picked certain cards for certain people, and sometimes actually read what was written. I will admit not doing it this year is definitely a bonus to Zoom-schooling right now.
Charles, their dad, also loved to celebrate the day with them; he always said it’s a day to show the people you love that you love them, and since receiving gifts is Charles’ love language, it’s also the way he showed love--by buying gifts for the kids on Valentine’s Day. My mom, too, for that matter. This year, I planned to use the holiday as a great excuse to bake and try out my sugar cookie decorating skills. It’ll be a perfect calming time, especially as I do sermon preparation for preaching this upcoming Sunday.
With Charles and I having been separated for a year now, I’ve had a lot of time to reflect on love, marriage, and everything in between. Over the last couple of weeks I’ve been thinking about the fact that pretty soon, one way or the other, I’m gonna have to start checking That Box.
It's That Box that says single, married, separated, divorced, or widowed.
It's That Box that you don't really want to check, not now, not anymore anyway.
It’s That Box that that seems miles away from the one you checked decades ago, one you never envisioned nor wanted to be a part of your story.
It’s That Box that as a woman in her forties with 2 children, the sheer thought of checking That Box brings nothing but trepidation.
With Valentine's Day approaching it seems even more important to share my reflections on the power of those boxes and how it impacts our ability to love ourselves more fully and authentically. I truly believe if we are going to learn to love ourselves more fully we’ll need to begin to understand the impact these boxes have had in shaping how we view ourselves. Sometimes the boxes we check or leave blank make us forget the importance of self-love.
The Power of That Box
Maybe you’ve checked That Box in your early 20's. Then it was pretty easy, self-explanatory. You didn’t overthink it. You hadn’t really fully thought it through nor felt the power of That Box. Not then anyway.
Instead, you might have felt a bit of freedom that came with the ability to check That Box haphazardly not really thinking or being concerned about the implications or anything much at all. There was a blissful naivete--you had a feeling that the world was before you and your future, yet to be unhinged.
Then you started to age a bit more and realize the power That Box had over what felt like your every little move. As you grew and learned moving freely through your twenties and thirties, the freedom felt less free each time you continued to check That Box.
It was as if there was some unspoken rule written a long time ago that told you that you were inching closer and closer to an arbitrary sell-by date. A sell-by date that your feminist and womanist inclinations told you was foolishness and a tool of the patriarchy. Yet so much about your world continued to treat you as though this was gospel truth. As you inched closer and closer to that unspecified date, you unconsciously started to believe it.
I wonder if men have ever had to wonder, fret, or deal with the anxiety that comes with checking That Box.
Even though we recognize that so much about checking That Box, those boxes are wrapped up in our patriarchal society, a system that never really intended for some of us, at least half of us, to ever truly be free; we somehow still subscribe to it.
Maybe it was always there, the power of That Box, and I just see it more clearly than I ever have before. I must admit that at some points in my life checking That Box gave me a bit of relief. It was as though by checking That Box indicated to the world that I had somehow wrinkled time and arrived on a higher plane. And with it passing out privileges that I was now afforded like I had reached a certain type of glory. When all I really did was try hard to stay on the path constructed for my life by following that plan. I hoped that maybe people would finally begin to see me, and take me seriously as an adult and not despise my youth.
How foolish to think that it would be me they would see. Well, that’s not accurate, that they would fully see me. I didn’t realize that I would be reduced to the wife of and eventually mother of with bits and pieces of myself intertwined and lost in the ofs and ands of my roles...identities...and what have you. The power that is held all within that little bitty box, those four little lines to nowhere. Maybe I knew the power existed but certain parts of my status shielded me from having to really face the power that lies with checking That Box. I suppose that depending on the body you inhabit, the skin you live in, at some point or other it will give rise to some level of anxiety when you have to check a particular sort of Box.
Maybe it was your gender, and you breathed a sigh of relief when they added: “prefer not to say.” Or maybe when they asked you your race, age, employment status or something else, that caused you to embody a level of anxiety. That power always existed just beneath the surface. Yet, rarely do we ask the question: Who put That Box there in first place?
I wonder, will we admit we've made marriage into more than what it really is. To say that doesn’t take away the beauty and gift that it can be. And I don’t say this because of my own status, it’s something I’ve been pondering for some time now because we've made it into the holier, nobler of the two paths. In reality, it is a choice and neither one is bad or good but a choice which we simply make. Then we must choose to walk down that path with all the bends, twists, and turns, and see what that path has for each of us to learn.
I think we’ve believed in the fantasy in the fairy tales, that told us, “and they lived happily ever after.” I wonder if there was even a kernel of truth in that phrase. Maybe it is if we noticed the commas that should have been placed there:
and,
they lived,
happily,
ever after.
We do have some say in how we choose to live. Life is about learning how to navigate the life that comes after all the things we say “I do” to. We also get to choose a different path when we find ourselves in places and spaces that don’t give or bring us life. Trust me, I know that choosing a different path isn’t always easy and it's as simple as I’ve made it sound. It can be scary and intimidating to take a leap of faith in a new direction. But it is an option, even if it takes a long time to move towards a different path. Whatever path we choose we need to keep living through the ebbs and flows of life. We also need to learn how to be happy with our life, by finding joy and contentment, but that of course begins with loving ourselves, unapologetically.