The Art of the Date (with yourself or someone else)

As I stare at my blank word document, I’m reminded what a blank slate of a day feels like. It sounds like the most wonderful thing in the world- writing whatever comes to mind, a day to do whatever you feel, comparatively. And then the moment arrives, the day is starting you in the face, and suddenly you freeze up.

For me, I often feel when moments I’m excitedly anticipating arrive, I suddenly forget how to make them come to life. The word “make” sounds harsh and out of place, but I suppose that’s how I feel. Like I must do something to make this blank page or gift of an open day or afternoon the best it could possibly be.

I was reminded of this when, last minute, I realized the other interns were in fact taking spring break, and I was gifted with a week and a half of blank days. As graduation approaches, I was sitting with the fact that this may be the last time in a long while I have this much time and yet nothing specific on the calendar. As if finding ways to make the most of one day wasn’t enough, try a week and the added pressure of “this isn’t going to happen again for a long long time.”

This time, however, as I stepped into my week of openness, I was reminded of breaks gone by. I have a pattern of not doing nearly as much as I thought I would, and then wasting this precious time worrying I’m not doing it right.

Perhaps you can relate with moments you’ve had to yourself, or even in planning a day with others? Sometimes we have a beautiful day planned, all to wake up and not really feel like that specific activity that day. Maybe some days we’ve planned a fabulous dinner of cooking with your love, when what you really need is to sit on the couch, not talk, and watch hockey. Both are beautiful and needed by the way.

I spoke with my therapist last Friday, one day into my break, and I was proud of myself. I listened to what I needed, I brainstormed things that were fun or that I wanted to do, but I wasn’t glued to anything. I’d found a balance of being outside, to watching tv and resting. To which she said “I love that. It sounds like you took yourself on a date.”

I was reminded that taking yourself on a date doesn’t have to look like a candle lit dinner. It can and that’s fun! It can also look like listening to how you’re feeling throughout the day, resting when you feel like it, getting creative if that sparks. Not forcing things that aren’t serving you in that moment, but showing up for what you need.

Often, it seems like the word ‘date’, or an otherwise special moment is reserved for the dinner reservation, or the “special” activity. But what if we changed that definition? What if instead, it was what love actually looks like: listening, making space, kindness, and authenticity?

I’m now practicing brainstorming some of the things that sound good to me in a moment, and I also loop in Will with that. Whether it’s a moment with myself, or time with Will, I practice listening to what I or we are needing, and then pulling from my list, or going rogue if the situation calls for it. Because it’s not the bubble bath that expresses love to ourselves, but rather slowing down, and caring for our bodies in the way that feels good right then. I think that’s what a date really should mean.

For it’s not the action that matters, its what it symbolizes. Being willing to listen to yourself, to what you’re needing, to what feels good, to where your head and your heart are- that’s loving yourself. No “self-care” or idea of a date required.

Self Care most certainly doesn’t have to mean bubble bath and amazing robes. Perhaps one of the only times I felt that fancy was getting ready for my wedding!