First of all: Good morning beautiful, sweetheart or *insert any sweetness you would like to be called on*,
Is it too late to say that? I know you’ve probably been awake a while – likely hours or even all day. I know you may have gone this whole time without hearing it – shrugging back to friends and family who asked you how you’re doing with a non-committal “Fine” because that is what we’re meant to do as humans – answer meaningful questions with arbitrary phrases.
I know that you may not be fine. I know you may have had a lacklustre day. And I know that something as incredibly mundane as a “Good morning” text may have made all the difference in the world. It’s okay if that’s the case. It’s okay to sometimes ache for those simple and kind-hearted gestures.
Because the truth is that good morning texts are more than a half-hearted means of communication. They are a sign that we are thought of. Cared for. Adored, by someone who may not be immediately present. They are a reminder – one we perhaps should not need but sometimes do – that we are appreciated in our entireties.
So if you did not get one this morning, here is what I want you to know: You deserve to have a good day today. Not because of some universal law that necessitates good things happening to worthwhile people, but because we all do. We all deserve to have a beautiful morning and a correspondingly fantastic day, regardless of who loves us or appreciates us or thinks of us first thing when they wake up in the AM. Just because someone is not around to appreciate the complexities of who you are does not mean that you deserve anything less than pure joy.
And in case there’s no one else to remind you, here is what else I want you to know: There’s a particular way you laugh that can make an entire room light up, if only for a moment in time. There is a way you tilt your head when you are concentrating that makes you look unbearably kissable – as if you were placed on this earth only to stare at things and frown in the most endearing form humanely possible. There is a noise you make when you are falling asleep – a soft, almost inaudible sigh that sounds like the ethereal embodiment of all that is tranquil and calm. There are a thousand minute intricacies that make up the tapestry of who you are and not a single one has ceased to exist since the last time that somebody loved you.
I know we’re not supposed to need reminders of that. I know that we’re supposed to be strong and self-sufficient and reassured – certain of our own worth, questioning only the value of others. But we’re human. We forget.
We forget that we are loveable. We forget that we’re desired. We forget that we are anything other than the hard-shelled, busybody workaholics that we’ve all been trained to behave as. We forget that we, too, merit adoration.
And here’s what it’s easiest to forget: Who you are doesn’t cease to exist because there’s nobody there to admire it. The way you bite the ends of your pen or pencil is still cute, even when there’s nobody to tease you for it. The way you hold yourself still exudes confidence, even if there’s no one to assert it to. The way your eyes light up when you’re talking about what you love is – and endlessly will be – attractive, regardless of who is there to listen to you speak. The way you put on that lipstick in a traffic jam or maybe the way you tuck your hair behind that ear at a random moment unconsciously. All the little quirks that make you up are not extinguished because somebody once chose against them. You still deserve to have a good day, even when there’s no one there to wish it to you. Even if you forget to remind yourself.
Someday someone’s going to love all of those tiny things about you. Someone’s going to love the way you cough. They’re going to laugh at the way you lose your keys and phone while you’re actually holding them. Someday, someone is going to stare at you from across a crowded room and know exactly how you’re feeling based on the way your head is tilting or the type of wine you’ve used to fill your glass. Someone is going to appreciate all of your obscurities eventually but right now they are all only your own. And that’s okay. First and foremost, you will always belong to yourself.
Here’s what I urge of you if you did not receive a good morning text today: Don’t forget about what makes you incredible. Don’t let your own intricacies slide. Because the loveable parts of you are not gone – I absolutely promise you that much.
You are so much more than the person who nobody texted this morning. You are encompassing. You are fierce. You are a blazing, roaring fire in a world full of people who’ve been burnt. So please, refuse to let the wounded people extinguish you.
Refuse to be tamed. Refuse to flicker down into a meagre, burnt-out coal because somebody else is not tending to your flame.
At the end of the day, we’re all in charge of what we bring to our lives. So be the person who brings light to your own, even if nobody else shows up to it. Be the person who has a good day, even if nobody wishes it to them. Find a way to fuel your flame when no one else remembers to, because the world needs the light you give off.
And you, my dear, are too intense a power to be reduced by something as small and insignificant as the lack of a good morning text.