If I were writing this two weeks ago, I’d say that in my not-so-humble opinion (ladies, let’s collectively strike out the word “humble” from our dictionaries) flaking on a date, whether it’s serious or casual, should be against the law. Unless you have an inescapable emergency and/or fatal accident, don’t you dare text “rain check?” to a girl less than an hour before you were planning on meeting. Double offense if the girl you’re standing up is Middle-Eastern. Why? Because the three hours prior to your date, said Middle-Eastern girl is most likely shaving/waxing/removing every hair follicle that isn’t on her scalp, eyebrows, or lashes. Knock off one hour for girls who are naturally hairless and so very, very blessed. I am eternally jealous of you.
Since I am a professional journalist who insists on gathering hands-on research for every subject matter I tackle, I assure you I have a legitimate resource for the matter at hand. This resource is ME. MOI, MOI, MOI. (That was for our international readers. Bonjour.) I am all the hands-on research I need.
Our community here at 20something is a safe space so I’ll open up to y’all: I was “rain checked” last weekend. Although his excuse was understandable and filed into the “emergency” category (if it was true) (I have trust issues, alright?), I couldn’t help but feel slightly foolish looking at his text on my phone and then up at myself in the mirror. I was smooth, freshly showered, dressed to the nines with a perfect face of make-up on and I smelled fucking fantastic. I had lathered this deliciously expensive lotion all over my entire body after meticulously shaving every square inch of myself. Needless to say I was feeling fine as fuck before receiving that goddamn “rain check?” text. After staring at my phone in disbelief, feeling as though I had wasted so much effort and time only to be seen (and touched) by no one, I couldn’t help but feel incredibly stupid.
I sat on my bed laughing maniacally to no one wondering what I was going to do with myself while looking so damn good. That lasted a solid ten minutes. But as time passed, I felt rather silly for taking so long to realize an extremely important thing: the only person you should give effort and time to is yourself. If you ever find yourself altering your appearance for the sake of someone else, stop and ask: WHY? Who are you shaving your legs for? Another human being? No. Don’t allow yourself to do that for anyone. If you spend time on yourself and you’re smooth as fuck and smell amazing – that’s all for you, boo.
After going through this mental revelation, albeit spurred on by being “rain checked,” I’ve come to the decision that I’m going to actively “treat myself” more often. Sure, I’ve pretty much exhausted the phrase “treat yoself” since its origination in October 2011, thanks to Episode 4 in Season 4 of the phenomenal Parks and Recreation. However, it wasn’t until this profound moment, wallowing on my bed after spending significantly more time on myself than I had in months, that the true meaning of the phrase began to sink in. Treating yourself isn’t just about buying nice things for yourself (although you definitely deserve those, too). It’s also about the absolutely wondrous feeling of giving as much effort TO YOURSELF as you would for others. Whether you’re straightening your hair, shaving your armpits or legs, or using that lotion you love but rarely use, do those things for yourself and no one else.
I’m happy to report that after I came to this realization, I left my apartment, walked a couple blocks in gorgeous Los Angeles weather, sporting my also gorgeous self, bought myself a smoothie, explored some shops, and then somehow ran into some friends who kidnapped me and took me to a barbeque I wasn’t invited to. This barbeque turned into a dance party and I danced the night away. It was marvelous.
So, our lesson here: TREAT YOSELF. Truly, genuinely treat yourself and realize the immense complexity this phrase holds. It’s worth it.