Will I be mine?
I’ve been a house pet for the past decade. House pets are protected creatures- secure and warm in their house, eating when fed, and purring just right when attention is warranted. I could call myself a housewife, but I’m not married to a house. I’m married to a man who tolerates- no, more so, he enables my house pet existence. I like the title. I even use it at cocktail parties where it is inquired as to whether I work. The title ends the conversation that I do anything of value while keeping my dignity. It is snarky. I used to say that I was an artist; but honestly, that also seemed to end the conversation but with the added editorial of “self-indulgent poseur”.
Being a Taurus born house pet, I love everything sensual. I love the touch of fine leather. I love the lux of velvet and satin. I love fine things. I love being petted. And don’t even get me started on food. I was speaking with a friend about my Mac‘n Cheese recipe and I mentioned the béchamel sauce base. Her response was both meant to be a cut and a compliment, uttering with a friendly sneer “Of course your Mac‘n Cheese has a béchamel sauce”. Yes. Of course. Richness. Dairy. Butter. Oh My…
If I was honest with myself, I would be forced to acknowledge that my single best skill is my ability to daydream. I can be in the middle of a digital drawing, turn towards the window to rest my eyes and disappear into my own secret world for clips of fifteen minutes at a time. The perfect job for me would be a full time position titled ‘Alternate Reality Creation Specialist’ and it would begin at 10 am and not a second before because house pets are not early risers. The workday would start with some semi important menial task. At the 10:15 mark, I’d be staring somewhere, rapt in the hard work of creating my own personal reality. It would be great if my assistant brought coffee every few hours. I would occasionally return to the “important” task, just so I could drift off again and again. I would be so adept at daydreaming that I would forget to pee and it is this kind of dedication to the job that would get me noticed by the higher ups. Soon I would be CEO of Daydreamer International. Seriously, I would just be so damn good at the job.
I’m lazy. I’ll blame my birth month again. Being a Taurus, I just can’t help but wait around and see if someone else would do the chore first. Just the other day, I finished an open bottle of wine just to realize that the replacement was in the basement. Let’s just say that I was done with wine for the night.
But you want to know what else I am? I am loyal. If you are in my pet circle, you are in my protection. I hold more anger for crimes done to my loved ones than to me. I am also true to my word. My words are a contract I do not break. I am honest. Sometimes a bit too painfully, a skill I am working on. I am generous. If I can share, I will…especially, hearth and home. I love to entertain. It is like giving out little pieces of my heart disguised as food and good company. I am fun loving. I am kind. I try hard. I am doing my best.
So, this Valentine’s Day, despite my faults, I am going to ask me to be my valentine. I’m not perfect, but I’m worthy of my own love. Why is that so hard to give? Why does even the idea of loving myself force tears down my cheek? And the saddest part, is that I know I am not alone.
So, for today, I will be mine. Will you be yours?
artwork by Brenda Erickson "Love Bomb"