I'll Take My Flowers Now

I've been thinking about recognition and celebration a lot lately — how, why, and when we receive it, and what it looks like for different people. Perhaps because the world seems so dark right now, I think it's important that we shine lights on everything we can as we're able.

For me, flowers are a light and one of life's greatest joys, their little faces give me unimaginable delight and pleasure, and when given will certainly provide the giver endless bonus points from me.

I'm pretty sure the last time I received flowers, beyond my last birthday, was four years ago when bouquets were delivered to my hospital bed. These blooms were all sent in hopes I didn't die, and while very much appreciated ... where are my flowers now? When I'm alive and thriving? Shouldn't the success of a life well-lived, or one in which I'm happy to simply be alive, be celebrated?

As I've grown older, I've become increasingly curious about what we celebrate, and perhaps that's because I've chosen a more nontraditional path than the generations before me.

As humans, we celebrate in large ways — weddings and pregnancy — and while I fully support those whose goals are to marry and to bring children into this world, that simply is not everyone's lot — whether by choice or by fate.

How are those of us whose lives don't include others' influence celebrated?

Think about it: a marriage, and all the celebrations those entail, necessitates two people. To reproduce, it requires two — whether naturally or artificially. These goals, accomplishments, milestones, however you choose to view them cannot be done alone. And while they can be wonderful for the people who want these out of life ... what about solo accomplishments that must be crafted by an individual alone? And some, which may be arguably more difficult in terms of initiating them?

To be clear, this is not to say that getting married or getting pregnant don't have significant challenges and are real, forever work. However, boiled down to the most simplistic terms of initiation, the act itself of getting married (I'm separating this from marriage as a concept because I know it is not easy) is sometimes no more than two people agreeing to do so and finding someone lawfully able to wed them. As for the act of getting pregnant (I am very much separating this from being pregnant or parenting. That work is eternal and hard as fuck, and a big part of why I say, "No, thanks!"), outside of fertility issues — which I fully acknowledge as an anxiety-ridden and heartbreaking challenge — is oftentimes two people having sex. And that? Well, that is not typically hard ... or at least shouldn't be ... figuratively speaking, of course. Heehee.

Again, I can't express enough that my intention is not to dimish these as wonderful and difficult and life-changing events for whoever wants these in their lives, only that they must be done with a partner, and sometimes a village. It is not possible for these concepts to occur alone.

My "but what abouts" are the solo journeys, which, of course, are often a Venn diagram of the duos out there. Why are they not celebrated with as much lavish passion?

What about the person who:

• Leaves a relationship that no longer serves them and has no idea where they were going to live next?

• Walks away from a toxic workplace and wonders where their next paycheck will come from?

• Moves to a new city, knowing no one? Travels solo to unknown places?

• Goes to school or back to school for a new degree? Changes their career entirely?

• Performs their work in public for the first time? Sells their first piece of art? Publishes their first book? Sells out their first venue?

• Overcomes or survives or just continues to live with mental health issues? Addiction? Chronic physical health problems?

• Goes from a casual runner to a full-blown marathoner?

Where exactly are their celebrations? Their parties? Their flowers? These are, while they may often have communal support, are also just as often solo journeys, lonely roads, and markedly under recognized.

With a very uncertain four years ahead of us, and the unfamiliarity that they hold, perhaps we start celebrating what we can immediately, with the same fervor and passion, and a similar heart to those who have accomplished more "traditional" milestones. And, of course, continue to celebrate weddings and babies because both bring forth hope and love for the future.

Let's celebrate it all, in fact, as one's minor accomplishment may be another person's life's work and vice versa.

Send someone flowers today, however that looks to you, because love, celebration, and recogition come in many languages. I can certainly direct you to where mine can be sent, because baby, I can tick off that whole list (well, minus the marathon part because who am I kidding?) in one way or another, and I'm sure I'm not alone. But I want mine now while I'm still blooming and alive to smell them and to touch them to my face. I don't want them as an acknowledgement that I once lived and am about to become soil once the worms eat me for their gross, little lunches.

I'll take my flowers now.

And yours? I want you to have yours, too. Tell me what that looks for you, what you're excited for or proud of in life, and I'll make sure they're out for delivery post haste — in the most ridiculous packaging filled with glitter and sunlight, and perhaps a petal or two.