I Choose Love.
I was supposed to go to this thing last night–this exclusive, elusive soiree.
I RSVP’d yes, even though I’m very wary of events like that—the ones where I’m supposed to feel special because ‘they’ invited me.
I started having flashbacks to high school and the countless times I was left out.
I think that’s what compelled me to say I’d go, because, occasionally that sixteen year old inside of me rears her insecurity and low self-esteem and I listen to her: I want to be included! I want to be popular!
So, I got a sitter all lined up, but it never sat well with me.
I’m not a schmoozer, a networker, a stair climber–you know, when you use other people to get a little higher up, so you can look down at everyone else and wave: Look how much better I am than you!
I’d rather it take 20 years instead of 10, if it means I build my own staircase and help other people build theirs at the same time.
Anyway, I didn’t go to this thing, because, something much more important was on the other side—my family.
It was my best friend’s son’s birthday yesterday. He wanted me to be at his dinner. I wanted to be at his dinner. I hadn’t seen my kids in two days. I wanted to be with them. They wanted to be with me.
It comes down to priorities.
There’s always a choice to be made, and for me it’s an easy one—the people I love will always come first, even if it means my popularity wanes because I don’t attend some fancy schmancy event.
Before I make a decision, I think about tomorrow:
What will it be like tomorrow if I choose this over that or that over this?
In this case, I knew my family would be disappointed and I would be, too. I can’t undo an action. It’s tattooed on my life story, forever.
The people I love will never forget my actions and neither will I; I have to live with every choice I make.
Selfishly, it also gave me an opportunity to stand true to what I was really feeling and what I really want—to be secure in who I am.
I want love, and the way to receive it is to give it, to the people who are already there, not those who aren’t.
I chose love.
We had a fun birthday dinner. We ate, we laughed and we made a memory.
I woke up this morning feeling full, happy and certain–I made the right decision.
I may have even added another step to my staircase.
