Could You Be Loved and Be Loved?

You should be loved.

This isn’t some Valentine’s push to get all the lonely hearts hooked up. I happen to be one of those freaks who really enjoyed being single. Of course, I really enjoy being in a relationship too. Regardless, I’m just saying, you should be loved.

I don’t care if you’re single, married, in a relationship, wondering what if, out on your first date, have lots of friends, are happy that you have lots of cats, or just lookin’. You should be loved.

We don’t deserve to be loved, and I‘m tired of people saying that. No, now. Settle down and hang on a minute. I’ve never liked hearing someone say, “You’re such a good person. You deserve to be loved!” As if love is a reward. As if love is on the same level as, “Thanks for mowing the lawn and pruning the trees. You deserve an extra beer or two!” Love isn’t on the same level as, “I’ve worked out every day this week. I deserve to indulge in a little dessert.” We don’t deserve love.

We should be loved. Simple as that.

I was folding laundry and I felt his eyes on me. I looked up. “I love you,” he said. I was ready to reply with our usual style of banter and say something like, “Yeah, only because I washed the skid marks out of your undies.” But the look in his eyes stopped me, and I only smiled. Well, I gave him the smile.

We should be adored.

We should be adored not because our bodies are in perfect condition, or because we have great hair, skin and teeth, or because we’re smart, or funny, or because we did something nice. We should be adored because something about us sitting there in our old sweats, hair knotted up in an ancient scrunchy, doing some every day, mundane task… something says, “I’m so alive.”

He gets up ridiculously early every morning. He insists that I continue to sleep a little longer. To help with that, he puts his pillows lengthwise on the bed next to me. That way I’ll think he’s still there, stay in my snuggle spot, and snooze on. The first time he did that, I gave the pillows a wry, sleepy smile and muttered, “Tricky bastard.” But then tears sprang to my eyes as a huge wave of love washed over me. In that moment, I knew I was loved, so very loved.

We should be treasured.

We should be treasured not for the car we drive, or the way we dress, or the house we own, or the furniture we have, or for the material things we bring to the table. We should be treasured for the kindnesses we do without even thinking about them. We should be treasured because we have a way of being “there” even when we’re not right there.

I know, you’re rolling your eyes right now. You’re giving me that look that says, “See? Yeah. You’ve got Mr. Perfect. It’s easy for you.” It’s not. Mr. Perfect is human and so am I, and we‘re prone to all kinds of human-type flaws. Besides, it’s not the relationship that is significant here. I could just as easily have written about friendships that touch my life in that same way. I could write about family that touches my life that same way. And… wait for it… I can tell you that I try to treat myself the same way.

Yeah.

Nobody knows as well as I do how difficult it can be to look in the mirror and say, “You are loved. You are adored. You are treasured. You are loved by me. You are adored by me. You are treasured by me.” It took me a long time to even say it. It took me a year before I started to believe it. But once I did believe it? Oh, the amazing, surprising, humbling, profound stuff that started rolling my way… my beloved was part of that. I wouldn’t be able to appreciate the things he does for me and the beautiful person he is in my life if I didn’t also believe that I should be loved, that I should be adored, that I should be treasured.

You should be loved.

By you.