I bought myself a birthday card today.
This is not something that I normally do, but something that was a no-brainer for me to do, at least today. I suppose there are a couple of reasons why I bought it.
Let me start here: My birthday is not until March. And it’s January. I am never this well-prepared. (Except for that time I planned my daughter’s February birthday party in December because I was expecting a second baby in January – but that does not count). However, buying a birthday card two months in advance? The only other time I do this is when it’s for someone else.
The card caught my eye in the check-out line at the grocery store. After I read it, I said to myself, “I love that message.” And then I did it. I did what I would normally do. I said to myself: “who can I get this card for?”
For the very first time in my life, my answer was “me.”
The truth is this: who knows where the hell I’ll be in March. March feels like eternities away in my world right now. But at least if my January-self could send a message to my March-self, then for sure, this would be the message I would want me to hear.
I looked at the price.
Are you kidding?
I’m the type of woman who cuts coupons and always knows where the best deals are for certain products. $6.99? I could get a Subway value meal for less than that. But…I bought it anyway. Because…
I am worth it.
If I can’t spend $6.99 on a Hallmark card to love myself then who can? Then who will?
Truth be told: it’s not the card that matters – at all. But it’s the conversation that I had with myself about the card. It’s about practicing self-love and self-worth through the card.
I believe so many of us try to find ways of taking care of other people or worrying about other people that in the process, we lose ourselves. We forget about ourselves. And, ironically, the moment that we lose ourselves is the moment when we are inauthentic in our relationships because we lack the self-worth to be “enough” for those around us.
I love this card and its message, but as I look at the blank card staring before me, I wonder:
Do I write myself a message? If so, do I write what I need to hear now? Can I even predict what words I will need to hear then?
Or, do I leave it blank? Might the absence of words say something even more powerful?