One of my girlfriends, Lynette K., sent this screen-grab to me a few days ago (below). After nodding in somber affirmation at its sentiment, I began reading the message that supplemented it. Now before I share the perspective-altering message she wrote me (that I just could not keep to myself), I think it’s only right to give you a little backstory…
Dating in our late twenties (and now early thirties) has been a challenge, to say the least. It’s been a time where our emotional and mental maturity requires the kind of relationship that doesn’t involve loosely defined entanglements, individualism, and unrequited love. Despite this, it seems that the “search” for such a relationship is compromised by the normalized cultural acceptance of all the above and is made ever-confusing by that wolf in sheep’s clothing, desire.
Despite these challenges and our particularized baggage, she and I decided that we would continue believing in a love most perfect for us. In the name of manifestation, positivity, and also just shear exhaustion stemming from going through it alone, we decided to send each other daily messages meant to encourage one another to surround ourselves with love (including, most importantly, self-love) and to except from our lives anything less than the love we’ve learned we deserve.
This screen grab, and the words that follow, was her message to me on that day…
“I saw this post last night and it made me think of how we used to talk about wanting/needing to be desired by the men that come in and out of our lives. It didn’t occur to me then, that while we were often desired, we were rarely loved thoroughly. Without a doubt, we were and still are very much desired; I think back to our college days when we had all the men flocking. I’m realizing now how much more I’d rather be loved than merely wanted by someone. Not that desire or the want to be desired is wrong, I’m just realizing that it’s a temporary feeling; it’s lust in nicer clothes. To me, desire is like that Met Gala-like gown or those cute expensive heels you rarely wear. You take them out for the right occasions, get dressed up, live a little, and then take them off when the party ends. By the time the next party comes around, you’re shopping for a new outfit. Desire is fleeting, it fades, gets old, and loses its appeal after a while. Being desired is no longer enough, I want to be loved all the way through. I liken being loved wholly to your favorite little black dress. The one you like to wear every chance you get because it’s versatile and goes with anything. You dress it up or dress it down; you switch up the accessories so it feels like you’re wearing a new/different dress every time you wear it. But the foundation of the outfit is still the same, that little black dress. You deserve to be loved all the way through. A love that is not hung up and stuffed away in the closet when the party ends because it is not bound to occasions. It may get stressed and tested over time like your favorite overly-worn pair of sneakers, with the stitches coming undone. But it hangs in there, it persists, gives room for growth, and shows grace because it takes into account all the complexities of choosing you and was intentional in its pursuit of you from the beginning. It is an everyday, every moment, forever kind of love. An ups or downs kind of love. A love that may change and transform but doesn’t fade and never gets old.”
Otis Lily 