I roll up to the bar with my new python clutch because, y’know, fuck it, gotta look swagged out at Radio on a Thursday night, right? He notices as I set on the bar and immediately comments, “Oh, you bought yourself a new bag?” Yes. Yes, I did. I also cashed out on a ton of make up and am wearing a lot of it on my face right now because I want to look beautiful even under these red 15 watt light bulbs.
But I know what he means. I know what the implication is here. The implication is that I’m selfish. Blowing money on designer goods isn’t exactly PC here in the Bay Area, but that’s fine, I’m not a PC person.
I also know what the extrapolation of that implication is: selfish women are only out for themselves. Sure, I get it, someone somewhere got burned by some girl who scammed him for a Louis purse, blah, blah, blah, I don’t care. I rue the implication because I see this judgment being levied against so many women I know: if you take care of yourself, try to look good, and exude confidence, you must be some kind of slut who’s out to run men for their money.
Yo, it’s almost 2019 and I’m kinda getting sick of people’s very limited, preconceived notions about the concept of love. It’s almost as though people think that we have a limited amount of love that we can dole out in the world, and if you spend all that love on yourself then there must not be any left to give to anyone else, such as a potential boyfriend. Yuck. That’s so small minded.
From personal experience, let me tell you: the more love I have for myself, the more love I have to give to other people. It’s a self reinforcing philosophy, almost as though the more that I practice love inwardly the better I am at showing it outwardly. Crazy, right? The fact that I treat myself with kindness and respect means that I know how to treat other people with (or without) kindness and respect. And the more you practice, the better you are.
I mean, I get why this guy is so miffed by my new purse. That’s a pretty absurd amount of self love. But I don’t believe that there is an upper limit to love, and that’s something that I enjoy exploring with myself. Although, perhaps the real confusion comes from him wondering: how come I have so much love for myself and none for him? That’s easy – he hasn’t earned it.
That’s another piece to the puzzle – how do we earn other people’s love? Love, as a concept in our society, is kinda tacky and commercialized, so there hasn’t been a lot of cultural instruction on how exactly we earn love, receive love, and return love. I find it to be pretty sad because after all these years on Earth, I’ve found that loving people and being loved in return, while laborious and often times quite painful, is my favorite thing to do.
Anyways, so what does it take. I’ve found that there’s a certain amount of time and intimacy that are needed for me to love a person. It tends to be a lot of time and a lot of intimacy (which, honestly, always makes me squeamish, so that’s a hard one to tackle). Also, in terms of romantic love, I’d say that the lower limit for number of orgasms I have to have would probably be 10 (which, in all honesty, could be spread over anywhere from as little as three to as many as twenty sexual encounters).
So, I look at this guy, and I ask myself, is he going to earn my love? Nah. I’m not going to spend any more time with him, and I doubt I’ll ever be emotionally intimate with him, let alone have a satisfying sexual experience with him, so…whatever. I mean, I don’t think I’m every going to earn his love, but I’m also not going to try, so no broken hearts over here. Although, maybe if he spent more time practicing his own brand of self love, we would have gotten a little bit further in this rigmarole because fluency in the language of love – well, as I’m sure you already know, I’m a polyglot.