(BE your own husband, not bring your own husband, although you can do that too, obvs.)
My memory is terrible, so the other night, I wrote my sleepy future self a reminder:
Then I groaned inwardly at the Cheesy Domestic Bliss vibe, like I was June Cleavering some nonexistent spouse. It felt good, though–in that tiny act, I was doing something nice for myself (saving myself from annoyance and a $13 salad, in this case).
When my overworked friend said her husband suggested she treat herself to a pedicure, I had a similar thought. Hmm, interesting…I don’t need a dude, though. I can do that for myself! Admittedly, I don’t have a kid or family, so self-care is easier*–I’ve gotten two pedicures already this summer just for the hell of it. A theme was starting to congeal like the gummy brown fat oozing off a sizzlin’ chicken leg. (WHO’S HUNGRY?!)
The last straw (slash blobby chicken fat globule, EWW) was when my sister told me she’d taken a few weeks to “date” herself. Former me would’ve rolled my eyes, but now it makes sense: Why sit at home binge-watching Netflix for the tenth night in a row, soaked in self-pity, when you can take yourself to a play/movie/concert/dinner? (Or even do something free like a little picnic for the park, or a long walk.) I don’t need a partner to treat myself well, and I shouldn’t wait for someone else to encourage my own self-care. Take a second to think about what you wish a husband/boyfriend/girlfriend/whatever would do for you, and then do it yer dang self!
It’s like Agent Cooper said: