Keep It Moving, Cupid

Well, well, well...if it isn’t the day of love upon us…Hold on, give me just a second, I’m feeling a little nauseated.

Look, I would love to sit here and tell all of you I’m thrilled about another Valentine’s Day in Ms. Macons’ stilettos, but I would be bald-faced lying to y’all. I’m not. I don’t mind love on other folk. Y’all do your thing. But, for me, I immediately go into damage control at the thought of a relationship. I’m looking for flags I missed before. I am trying to spot the bullshit before it has time to take a foothold in my life. I’m literally hashing and rehashing every conversation that takes place because let’s be honest, y’all know I’ve done shit like a simpleton bitch does in the not so distant past.

I have been a literal fool for the idea of love so many times, it is embarrassing. It is an outright lesson in humiliation when I reminisce on the ignorant shit that has occurred when it comes to myself and love. Like I don’t know any better. Like I can’t see the damned writing on the wall.

I do. I can. I am just as disgusted with it as y’all are. I can’t believe how much of a dumb bitch I’ve been either. But I know, I can’t go back. I can’t ungive myself to these fuckboys. I can’t run a Pink Pearl over my past and wipe out all of the erroneously marked “yes” boxes I checked. Lord knows I would have erased the good majority of everything from 2004-until last week.

But, I will do what a good Belle does. I will fix my makeup. I will blot at my eyes. I will put on a pair of stilettos and I will walk confidently in the direction of the life I am building for myself, by myself. There is no shame in making mistakes if you learn from them. There is no reason to hang your head if you have redeemed yourself. I can’t let the fuckboys of yore continue to hang dark clouds over the woman I am today.

So, in honor of Valentine’s Day, here is a list of the things I love about myself. I love my “Snow White” effect on animals. I love my loyal nature. I love my work ethic. I love my fantastic hair. I love my intelligent humor. I also love my gutter humor. I love my confidence. And I love the fact that everything on this list is something that a fuckboy once tried to take from me, but I clung to it for dear life and won the struggle.

Ladies, if you are single, make yourself a list. Love yourself, a whole damned list worth. Tell yourself what is so amazing about you. I’ve spent many Valentine’s Days with someone, and I’m fairly certain there isn’t a single one of them that ever had a list of things that they loved about me that was as good as the one I just gave to me. Theirs was superficial at best. Demeaning at worst.

I am ok loving me, because I am fucking fantastic. There isn’t a dude in this area code that treats me as well as I treat myself. So in honor of Valentine’s Day, I love you, Ms. Macon.

Oh, that’s fantastic, because I love you also, Ms. Macon.