I bought myself flowers today. They were roses, red and pink, with some bulbs more in bloom than others. I carried them out of the grocery store proudly, ignoring the weird stares from people around me.
I bought myself flowers for the first time. Because for so long I relied on the idea of expecting or needing someone else to do it for me.
I bought myself flowers instead of receiving them. They weren’t brought to me by a delivery service on my doorstep, in the hands of a guy waiting outside my front door, or in a vase as a centerpiece for dinner. I got them all by myself.
I bought myself flowers because I felt like it. Not because I had to. There was no person or place they were going to after the cashier rang them up. The only place they were going was to my home.
I bought myself flowers because I needed to remember. I needed to remember how good it felt to do something nice for myself, because then maybe I could start to believe I deserved to feel happy.
I bought myself flowers because I wanted to remind myself. I wanted to remind myself that my validation to being loved is not in the form of a bouquet wrapped in plastic, whose petals will soon start to fall off before they make it up my front steps.
I bought myself flowers and I’m not ashamed. I’m not ashamed I had to be the one to do it, because we need to teach each other that buying something nice for yourself — something that is only seen as something others do for you — is okay.
I bought myself flowers and it felt good. It felt good knowing something as simple as doing this could put a smile on my face. And I did it all on my own.
I bought myself flowers because I wanted to make a point. I wanted to show that I could still feel love even if it’s not with someone else, but myself instead.
I bought myself flowers and I’d do it again. But this time I would buy them all and give them away to my friends and family, because they’re who I love.
I bought myself flowers today. You should try it sometime too.