My Perfect Valentine’s Day
(Or, How I Embraced My Independent Singleness and Lived My Love Out Loud)
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NOLA NOTE: Before we get into today’s post, I’m pleased to announce NOLA second draft is now at the editor’s desk (not mine!), and I’ve hired a book designer who is currently designing the cover, internal layout, and eBook specs. I don’t have a firm pub date yet, but it will be soon-ish! I’d love to have y’all join my private Facebook group for more information, memes, and all-around fun. You can join on Facebook by clicking here: NOLA Swarm. Stay tuned for publication updates . . .
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Valentine’s Day is not one of my favorite days. The commercialism of lovemeloveme stuff? I’d rather not, thankyouverymuch. Okay, I’m sure if I had the opportunity to, you know, share it with someone, I’d feel different. But even then, I’m not so sure.
Don’t get me wrong, I love flowers, wine, and chocolate as much ~ if not more ~ as the next girl, but This Girl is also logical. I don’t go in for one-day-a-year Gooey Eyes. I just don’t. Now, spoil me regularly, and then we can talk. [Insert eye-roll here.]
So today I focused on what y’all now call “self-love.” I dunno how that phrase got started, but I’m cool with embracing it.
Today, after I got all dolled up, my non-boyfriend [translate: car I named after my protagonist, Rain] took me all over town. Instead of flowers, wine and chocolate, we stopped to get a post office box. A vehicle title. A driver’s license.
All in my new hometown. All for my new life.
Which I am loving more than I thought possible.
Frankly, My Dear . . . : My Perfect Valentine’s Day
It totally helped that it was a balmy day and I got to spend most of it with the windows down and the radio up. (Big surprise, right?)
Love comes in many forms. We all know this. But when it emanates with ebb and flow, in and out of us, to share with others, there’s a harmony, an unsung tune that only we can give music to. That’s life. That’s love.
There’s always something to celebrate. Channel your inner Pollyanna if you have to. Make a list. Sing it out loud.
Darlin’, there is always something to celebrate.
And today, I celebrate no longer living in California.
Today, I am officially a True Southerner.
So tonight, I enjoyed a Peanut Buster Parfait from Dairy Queen, and watched Gone With the Wind.
Frankly, My Dear . . . : My Perfect Valentines Day with a Peanut Buster Parfait from Dairy Queen
Yup. Today’s all about the Southern love.
How did you share love? Leave a comment!
With a new drawl and a pin in the map,
Happy living love.
~Molly Jo
Frankly, My Dear . . . Savor the Journey!
Frankly, My Dear . . . : Bohemian Hurricane
Molly Jo is a Southern Belle and known to her friends as the Bohemian Hurricane. She is the author/curator of The Unemployment Cookbook and several eBooks available on Amazon. Her work-in-progress, NOLA, is a full-length location mystery novel set in New Orleans, and the first in her City Series.
God has never required us to be perfect to be in His presence.
In my mind I know this, but in my actions, my soul, my convictions . . . Well, that’s another story. Or another lie.
Frankly, On Faith . . . : My Imperfect Bible Reading
The enemy will use whatever he can to get to us, and that includes climbing inside our heads and making us think our thoughts are our own. But we can conquer those negativities one at a time.
When I chose to embrace my imperfections for this year, it opened up an attitude of joy. I’m no longer stressed or struggling to make everything “just right.”
It’s okay if my apartment is messy or I didn’t wash the car last week. I don’t have to balance the budget every day, and ice cream once in a while is good for my mood. Scribbles aren’t the death of a notebook. [That’s a big one!]
I bought a new Bible for the year. It’s the C.S. Lewis Bible, NRSV. I’m enjoying it abundantly. The quotes and meditations included from Mr. Lewis give new or refreshed insight into certain passages.
I even bought a cover and tabs. All went well until I placed 2 Kings under 1 Kings.
Frankly, On Faith . . . : My Imperfect Bible Reading
I could have become angry at myself. Frustrated. Disappointed. I could have tried to remove the tab, thus ripping the page. I could have carefully cut the tab and repositioned it with regular tape. I could have placed the next tab in its place. Or I could leave it as a reminder that I’m not perfect, but God loves me anyway.
Do you think God cares about the placement of Bible tabs? Only so much as it satisfies my soul. But if I allow the imperfect positioning of those tabs to come between me and God, that’s a whole ‘nother story.
The Bible tells us over and over of imperfect people whom God chose to deliver His message: Moses, Joseph, Esther, Paul . . . so why would He expect perfection of little ol’ me and not them?
Frankly, On Faith . . . : It is never a requirement to be perfect to be loved by God.
Answer: He wouldn’t.
No, O people, the LORD has told you what is good,
and this is what he requires of you:
to do what is right, to love mercy,
and to walk humbly with your God.
~Micah 6:8 NLT
God sees through to the parts of our hearts we’re unaware of. And if He can do that, and still love us as His own, why shouldn’t we love ourselves? Forgive ourselves? Respect ourselves?
Answer: We should.
Because in doing so to ourselves, it reflects outward and we will love, forgive, and respect others more.
I missed the last three days of Bible reading. The first day I thought I was too busy. The second day I was definitely too tired from being too busy on Day One. The third day I was catching up on what I didn’t do on Day Two. Yeah, I feel a little bad about not making my Bible reading a priority. But I did do some reading, and that’s a start.
Frankly, On Faith . . . : My Imperfect Bible Reading
Even without catching up on my reading, God still spoke to me.
How will you let Him speak to you today?
With an open heart and open hand,
Happy Sunday.
~Molly Jo
And Frankly, My Dear . . . : That’s all she wrote!
Welcome to Life with Lizzie: a new weekly feature here at Frankly, My Dear . . .
You know me. I’m Lizzie Cat. I’m the oldest of five at Catford Manor. Now that the Human Sister has grown up and moved out, Mom is left alone with us. She calls us her FurFamily and I guess that’s right. I mean, we are family. And we are furry.
Does that make her a Crazy Cat Woman?
I’m her favorite. I know this because she tells me. Oh, she loves Berry Sunshine, Little, Sparkles and Iris just as much. But different. Mom and I? We have a bond. I’m her favorite, and she’s mine.
I steal her stuffed animals when she’s not looking. I don’t hide them or anything. I just claim them for my own. C’mon. . . she leaves all day and they’re just sitting there. Out in the open. Someone has to snuggle with them. Am I right?
She calls me her writing partner. I like that. I like when she’s got a great idea, how excited and animated she gets. I like that she leans over and kisses me (but don’t tell her that). Mostly I love sleeping next to her. She complains that she can’t get any work done that way, but I think that’s a lie. She always manages to do just fine.
Writing Partners
Mom’s different since the Human Sister left. Sometimes she’s sad, so my sisters and I sit closer to her. She doesn’t cry much but I think she wants to.
Sometimes she’s happy. She dances more. Not in any particular pretty rhythm. But she does okay when she thinks no one is watching. She turns on the big black screen and it thumps. Loud. I don’t like that, and try to tell her so but she doesn’t listen so I just go to the other room until it’s over. She sings, too. Loud. I do like that, for the most part. We used to sing together but that was years ago.
She doesn’t eat at home as often. I guess I don’t mind because I don’t eat her food anyway, but Berry Sunshine is a little sad because she likes licking the plates. Mom’s friend Tania brought pepperoni pizza the other night, and we all took turns eating the crumbs. It was pretty good. I think Mom should have people like Tania over more often.
On the weekends, sometimes, she lets me go play in the yard. I like to roll around in the sand because it’s nice and cool, but when I come in she yells at me for getting the coffee table dirty. But she was the one who opened the door! See? A bit crazy there, I think.
She talks to herself once in a while. Or to people who aren’t there. When she’s writing, she yells at her computer. She calls it Babycakes which is strange because it’s not a baby and none of us can eat it. She pets it, too, which I can’t imagine being comfortable. It has no fur.
My favorite part of the day is bedtime. I can always when it’s time because she folds up her silver Babycakes, grabs her bottle of water and slips her flip-flops on before walking back to the bedroom. As soon as she sits up straighter from the recliner, I know all those other things are about to happen so I always try to race her to the bed. If I get to the pillow before she does, I make her scrunch her neck and shoulders around me. Once I’m settled, I’m settled. It’s her fault for staying up later than me, right?
Uh-oh. Looks like Mom’s getting ready to go in now. I better get there before she does, or else I’ll have to find a spot at the foot of the bed.
I’ll be back next week with more stories about Mom and my sisters.
I’m just sitting here and this sudden, invasive thought came to me:
The Complicated and I looked so good together on paper. He was everything I thought I wanted, except for one big “check” on “the list”.
But once I got to the depths of who we were together, for each other, I knew it wouldn’t work and I broke it off. I know I broke his heart and for that I’m sorry. But I also know staying with him would have destroyed me completely. I know he now hates me and thinks I led him on or used him.
But I also know that being single, and alone, and being the Right Person for ME, is better than being the Wrong Person for someone else. He may hate me now, but I would have hated me then.
And a tag-along thought is, I don’t. I don’t hate him. And I don’t hate me. In fact, I’m darn well pleased with who I’ve become. And how I didn’t compromise myself out of loneliness.
Last summer taught me a lot about just being. Yes, I still have moments that I wish I had someone to really talk to. Someone to hold me after a long day. Someone to appreciate my successes with me. Someone to call and say, “Let’s hang out” or “Let’s watch a movie” or just “Come over and have coffee”. I want someone to go on dates with, a reason to get dressed up and keep the house clean and wash the car and have a drink with and cook for and just anticipate his smile and his voice.
I spent six months on eHarmony after The Complicated, and all I learned is to NOT make a detailed list of expectations of who he should be.
Those things I thought I wanted in a man? The Complicated was most of them. And it didn’t work out. eHarmony “matched” me with guys who “fit the bill”. And they didn’t work out.
So I’m done with the list of expectations. You know what? I’m just going to enjoy life each day at a time.
I have discovered, that I am loved by a treasure trove of people. I just had to open myself up to them. My loneliness didn’t stem from not being in a relationship. It stemmed from me keeping myself hidden from the world.
I believe, as hard as it was to say “no” to The Complicated, that it was the best thing to do. So I could rediscover myself, and find out not what I want in a relationship, but what I have to offer the world at large.
I do still want to share my life with that one person I can trust with absolutely everything. But until he comes along (and I have faith he will!), I’m no longer keeping a list. And I’m no longer keeping myself hidden.
Years ago, I woke with this sort of mantra running through my head. I’d forgotten it, forgotten to pay attention to it.
“I am worthy
Of being loved
By the One
Who is worthy
Of being loved
By me.”
I don’t know what brings it to mind now.
I was just sitting at the computer playing Trivia Crack and this entire episode hit me like a refreshing, warm wave on the beach in summer.
Time to dip my toes in a little deeper, and trust that I know how to swim.
Funny the things you realize in a moment. . .
Don’t Leave. Period. My mantra to myself. No matter who else is involved, I mustn’t lose myself.
“Before they call I will answer;
while they are still speaking I will hear.”
I’ve always believed, because God is outside of space and time, that He has already heard the prayers the future me will pray.
For quite a few months last year, I struggled with morning anxiety. Waking up was painful as I was faced with so many unknowns: the deteriorating health of loved ones, incomplete projects, financial instability, family schedules . . . the list goes on and on.
I was unable to really write or even blog. I struggled with what to share and who to share it with.
I continued to pray in moans that only the Holy Spirit could interpret for me, knowing that God had a plan and even though I may not see it, it is good.
My Life Verse ~ Jeremiah 29:11
In retrospect, I can see how everything happens for a reason. In retrospect, I understand that I was getting in my own way.
I found this reminder note in my desk drawer at work and posted it to my private Facebook page, but I want to share it here, too, because, well, quite frankly, it needs to be shared.
December 8, 2014
On the morning of December 8th, 2014… When I was waking every morning with anxiety When I had writers block Before Rick finally went to his heavenly home Before Alex asked for my blessing to marry Hannah Before I was blessed with finances for TWO important writers conferences Before I started grocery shopping for one Before I had health insurance Before I picked up a paying client for media/marketing Before our lives were shaken, stirred, pressed but not crushed, running over … Before all these great and glorious moments, on the morning of December 8, 2014, I had a Heavenly dream. God put His calming hand on my shoulder and spoke to my soul and said, “It’s going to be all right. I hear you, and I’m already working on it.”
I am reminded every moment that God is a personal God, that He cares about every part of my being, that He is making me whole.
He cares about you, too. He’s already heard your prayers. And He’s already working on it.
