Let them buy you flowers

Last weekend I went on a date with my husband to one of our favorite beachside villages. While we listened to the cheesy cover band and nibbled our shellfish appetizer, a woman came toward the outdoor patio selling flowers and here were a few of the thoughts that went rapid-fire through my brain:

• I hope she doesn’t come over here.

• I hope she doesn’t try to sell us one.

• I hope my husband doesn’t try to buy one.

• How much could they cost?

• I still have flowers from my birthday at home.

• I don’t need another flower.

• Where am I even going to put this thing on this tiny table?

• Now we’ll never get rid of this lady, she’ll probably follow us home.

• Am I going to have to carry this around all night?

Well, being the great guy he is, my husband did buy me a flower, while I managed to bite my tongue and not try to stop him. And why the hell would I stop someone from buying me a flower in the first case?

It may well be that receiving gifts graciously is not exactly my forte (remember the whole birthday ordeal?).

Sure, there’s that darn “undeserving” dialogue that goes along with having been denied any celebrations in my most formative years, but I’m working on that. In fact, sometimes, many times, I can just say “Thank you,” and earnestly mean it.

So why was it so challenging this time to silence that nagging voice in the minute and a half between seeing the flower lady and my husband taking out his wallet? Well, old habits die hard. And despite the therapy, the self-acceptance, and the writing, it takes practice to get really, really, good at something. Even if that something seems as deceptively simple as receiving a gift.

The inability to accept what’s offered goes way beyond birthdays. When visiting another’s home as a guest, my mother firmly instructed me to always say, “no, thank you,” when offered anything, even a glass of water. No matter my thirst, or their insistence, if I ever dared to indulge, I was met with furious retaliation when we returned home.

Or not.

Sometimes it was the exact opposite. Sometimes my refusal of what was offered garnered me severe punishments for being so rude. That’s how psychopaths are also like a box of chocolates.

So, I didn’t try to stop him, and he bought me the flower, and guess what happened?

• I loved it!

• And I was happy to support the woman who sold it in some small way.

• And there was room for it on the tiny table.

• And I didn’t mind carrying it around all night at all, if fact, I really enjoyed it.

• And most of all, I was proud of myself for biting my tongue and not letting those old habits get the best of me.

Because the truth is, I really wanted that flower.

When we got home, I put the flower in a jelly jar with some water on my dresser so I could see it every morning when I wake up. It’s a pink rose, and as my husband knows, they’re my favorite. During the course of the week my rose has opened into the most beautiful bloom I think I’ve ever seen. It smells amazing too! Even my children are impressed by just how gorgeous this flower has become.

So, maybe it’s okay to want the flower, to want all the flowers that show up in my life. To say “Yes!” to them and “Thank You!,” and love and appreciate each and every one. And if managing that is hard some days, then maybe it’s okay to just shut up, and bite my tongue, and let them buy me flowers anyway.

My beautiful rose in bloom