When soft moments meet hard reality
Acknowledging the empty cup…
The act of romanticizing our lives has become a theme for so many of us these days, social media overwhelms us with pictures, videos, and pretty captions showing us small windows into the world of others where we see and let’s face it, we get a feeling within us, of a romantic way of life. This vision is about slowing down, tending to simple tasks, and the beauty that comes from within us. There is, within us, a core yearning for romance but this theme isn’t about romance in the way that most people would define the feeling of romance or romantic; this isn’t about an exchange of emotions, but more about giving to ourselves a sense of wonder that nurtures our souls.
Being honest, we grew up thinking of romance in the traditional way; a feeling of mystery and excitement associated with love. This love being external, from someone outside ourselves. And since I enjoy the companionship of men in this way, I think of romance between that of a man and a woman or a masculine and feminine energy exchange. Not everyone has the same preference as I do so feel free to insert whatever energy or preference you have, since the point is really that romance was something between two people, an exchange, a feeling of wonder and awe that felt magical.
But if we look at the word romantic it can mean something more, the dictionary gives varying examples that support the theme of romanticizing one’s life. For example, marked by the imaginative or emotional appeal of what is heroic, adventurous, remote, mysterious or idealized. This appeal to romance is inherently internal, it’s within our souls, and we can express this romantic vision through solitary expressions, like those most portrayed on social media.
As a woman who after many years of marriage finds herself in her mid-fifties, single, and with an empty nest I found that romanticizing my life was a beautiful way of self-expression, a way to slow down and savor the cup of coffee and see the simple beauty in the mug, the aroma, the flavor, especially when visiting a charming café where ambiance sets a stage for inviting the romantic within us. I found going on solo adventures became romantic, in part because becoming myself, independent of others, there was a mystery surrounding each morning. There was no one to give an opinion on what the day’s plans were or where we may have dinner. Everything from the time I awoke until the time I went to sleep was about finding me and what made my inner self feel joy. There is also a heroic aspect to doing things alone, I found such wonderful feelings of accomplishment, bravery, courage, and ultimately a knowing that I enjoy my own company, sometimes more than that of others. Having a romantic life, independent of another, is a beautiful experience that can bring about profound self-awareness. So, take the picture of whatever is bringing you joy in that moment, if only as a reminder to look back on and say, yes, that was a wonderful little time I had. I encourage you with all my heart to capture the feeling in any way you choose to express yourself, whether it’s a photograph of that cup of coffee or a journal entry describing the awe at seeing your first shooting star. Often we forget all the little things that we did or felt in past, and as the year goes by we think that maybe we didn’t do much at all, but having a reminder of those moments to look back on, at the end of each year, will bring you such profound joy because seeing the picture or rereading your journal entry, the inner you will relive that feeling and you will see how beautiful your life really is when we take the time to romanticize the moments of our lives where we feel our true authentic selves.
Ok, but can we acknowledge the empty cup? We can and we will, do you know why? Because it is also okay to feel a longing for the cliched version of romance, I believe this is deeply human. It is healthy to want (not need) companionship, touch, words of admiration, intimacy, and ultimately love. I know that not everyone may feel the desire for a romantic relationship, we are all at different places on our journey, but for those who still believe in the magic of fairytales, I hear you, so let’s put it out there and understand that it is okay, even in this new era of hyper feminism, to want to give love and be loved in a romantic way.
Quick disclaimer: Yes, I support feminism—no need to clutch your pearls.
With that said what about the cup…
The situation where this occurred for me was quite recent. It was just getting on winter, with the chilly nights and the darkness that blankets the skies early in the day. The type of day for being cozy which was exactly what I had in mind on this particular morning. I foresaw a quiet evening at home, cooking a small dinner, a blanket on the couch, and a cup of chai tea. So, as I was running errands I stopped at a store and saw the most adorable set of pajamas. I thought how cozy they looked, they were feminine in a soft wintering way. The fabric was incredibly soft, so much so that you just wanted to wrap your arms around yourself and give a hug. The color was a beautiful winter white, the bottoms were flowy and the top was that perfect oversized off the shoulder that really just brings out the playful feminine within. Of course, I bought them immediately and thought they were the perfect lounge wear for my planned evening in. Do you see where this is going? Ugh, at the time I didn’t so follow me along as I spiraled into an evening of many tears that brought me to the “un-romanticizing” of my life. I returned home as darkness was setting and thought what a peaceful night I had planned for myself. Yes, I was feeling good and had even decided that before I put on my new pajamas I would wash away the day in a comforting bubble bath. I soaked in a fragrant bath, used a sugar scrub on my skin, and in the end shaved in all the right places. The bath left me smelling of rosewater, my skin smooth and soft as I slipped into my new pajamas. Oh, how I felt so warm and relaxed. The candles in the living room were lit and the scent of vanilla and cinnamon wafted through my home. I prepared my dinner and sat at my table enjoying a nice meal. After cleaning up I looked around at the ambiance of my home, the soft lights, the burning candles, the sweet scent of my skin, the softness of my pajamas, and I thought this is romantic, this is romanticizing my life, and you would think that I would have been pleased and content. Wrong! Instead out of nowhere came an enormous rush of melancholy that overwhelmed me right there in the middle of the room. What was wrong with me? As I stood there, arms wrapped around my stomach, I listened to my heart, to what my body was trying to tell me, and I realized that what I wanted more than anything, in that moment, was to share this with someone… I desired playfulness, I longed for a smiling face looking at me, I wanted to be wanted, (insert Cheap Trick soundtrack) and I wanted to want someone. There was no one there to brush the hair away from my face, no one to share my day with, no one to snuggle up next to and feel the strength and safety of their embrace. As I stood there, tears rolling down my cheeks, barely able to catch my breath from the depth of the emotion, I realized that I couldn’t romanticize all of my life, that at some point I wanted romance from someone outside of myself. Although I thought that I had come a long way since my divorce, I was independent, I was learning to love myself, I was being brave and strong, it occurred to me that as a woman maybe I don’t want to always be the strong one, that what I truly desired was to be with a man who possessed a healthy masculinity where I could let my guard down and embrace my femininity. (Yes, I do believe they exist). And so the evening progressed with me lying in bed, tissue in hand, binge-listening to my emotions like they’re a true crime podcast.
I have embraced this part of me, this part that understands that yes I can find romantic moments in my life, and cherish them, savor them, remember them, because they are making me the authentic woman that I am, but I also acknowledge that at the core of romanticizing my life there is the fundamental desire to be fully in your feminine energy and the way, for me, to fully realize that inner truth is to have an opposing energy of masculinity (Ah, the ever-elusive soulmate—part myth, part longing, part cosmic joke).
I will, and I hope that you will too, continue to romanticize your life and capture those moments because I truly believe that those moments are pure joy that help in the development of our true selves. However, if you find yourself, crying in the middle of your living room, in your soft pajamas, know that this too is okay because it is a moment of clarity, a human desire to feel connection. Embrace your emotions both joy and pain, each teaches us something about ourselves. For me, I will continue to take the pictures knowing in my heart that one day I will come home and share them with someone as he smiles at me and pushes the hair behind my ear and says, “I’m happy that you had a good day, let me see your pictures”.
The empty cup is like our soul—sometimes we need to fill it ourselves, and other times, we just have to wait for the right brew to come along.