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My brand of “revolution” is softer than some, but it carries one hell of a big stick

Disclaimer: I’ve struggled with this post quite a bit. Not because I didn’t know what to write, but because I don’t make a habit of blogging about other people with details about anything meaningful or identifiable. So I’ve written and rewritten pieces of this post on Valentine’s Day and all of its implications more than a few times. But in my revisions, I realized that my outlook on the last few months – not to mention my future – has changed dramatically as I have reflected through writing.

Anyway… if you know me, you know that in the fall, someone who had once been a very important part of my life and I decided to try our hand at making it work one more time. In January, it fell apart after we put on our best game faces, tried without REALLY putting ourselves on the line, brought our families and the respective holidays into this mess of a scam and as it turns out we failed in the end. Disappointment, while fairly expected, ensued. And my heart met that disappointment in the road, faced it head on and basically just shrugged… after a day, at least. I guess when I really thought about things, it was no surprise that things fell apart (the end had been happening since the beginning), and it was time to spend my energy and wasted love on something better.

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So, gosh, it’s been almost a month since Chelsea blogged about and encouraged women everywhere to plan their own Valentine’s Revolutions. Her invitation to use the holiday of love to treat myself came with significant timing for me, and I accepted. I accepted not because I was recently single, but because I was celebrating being single… the most single I’ve been in a long time. Maybe ever.

You see… after this most recent break-up disappointment, I realized that I could not remember a time in which a relationship wasn’t just starting, happening, dying its slow death, or I was thinking about someone with whom I wanted a chance – another or otherwise. And now I find myself so single without a thought about what might come next, or even what I want to come next, that I’m filled with hope and renewed energy to be as unapologetically me as possible. And as I thought about how I wanted to celebrate this revolution on February 14, I decided that I first needed to start acting like I was worth being and treating with love and respect.

Are you like me and put things off when you’re single until you’re attached to someone else? You know, things like wearing cute pajamas, cleaning the makeup out of my bathroom sink, using the “good sheets,” and drinking a nice bottle of wine. When I’m all by myself in my house, it’s not as important for me to do those things, and like, say, make a fresh pot of coffee every morning… just for me. Those are things that I guess somehow I decide aren’t necessary for JUST me, but things that I’ll wait to do again until I am in the process of convincing another (hopefully cute) human being that I do all the time and am a normal person who goes about her normal life of fresh coffee, clean sheets and a makeup-free bathroom sink without an ounce of regard for who may or may not be watching.

When I ask the next potential great love to come over for dinner and a movie at my place for the first time: I’m damn well going to be sure that there are no dirty dishes in my sink, that he believes that my white bath mats are always that clean, that my sheets always smell amazing and that they are changed often and that I don’t reuse the same ratty plastic game day cup for a week’s worth of waters on my bedside table. Why the heck aren’t I loving myself enough to realize the stress-free feeling that having no dirty dishes in my sink when I walk in the door after work provides? Why shouldn’t I enjoy the feeling and delightful smell of clean sheets more often? Why don’t I get to watch a movie by candlelight with a good bottle of wine once in a while?

The fact is: I am so much more than worth all of these things. I damn well deserve them.

So for Valentine’s Day this year, I cooked one heck of a dinner for two very close friends and had a mini dinner party. We talked a lot, laughed more and enjoyed what life is really supposed to be all about, along with some wine. I bought some new things for my house because having things of beauty and comfort in my home is important to me. I got new bedding and added some throw pillows to my bed. I got rid of some clutter that was dragging me down because it held memories of a life that was never going to be, and that “stuff” made me feel like I was missing out on something when the reality is that I have every opportunity to make this life what I want it to be… without waiting for someone who is simply never going to truly just show up.

Now I light candles more often, I go to bed early with a glass of wine just to escape in my latest book, and I spend extra time outside with the dogs because it’s good for all of us. I fluff the pillows on the couch at night and fold the blankets, I use actual glass glasses on my nightstand, and I give myself facials a lot.

So, while I took Chelsea’s invitation to revolutionize Valentine’s Day this year seriously, and I did some things that were so good for my soul in the moment, I also decided that I am done waiting for my “real,” “good,” or “worthy” life to arrive. It’s here, and it’s all mine. Tonight I’m drinking wine from a good wine glass, and you know what… it kind of tastes better.

This Valentine’s Day I gave myself a reminder about what I alone want out of this life. And I reminded myself about how grateful I am… for so, so much. The truth of the matter is that I love this life, and its high time I start acting like it.

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