I Can Buy Myself Flowers (But I'm Tired of Doing It All Solo)

What happens when you achieve all your career goals but realize you're missing the one thing you convinced yourself you didn't need.

I can buy myself flowers.

I can live abroad and solo travel the world.

I can get dressed up, go out to a fancy dinner, and come home to give myself wonderful orgasm with my quite impressive toy collection.

But I’m tired of doing it all solo.

Carrying home flowers that I bought for myself while traveling solo in Mexico City, again.

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A child of the 90’s, I was raised on a third-wave feminism that emphasized empowerment through individualism and rejecting the norm, with Riot Grrl rockers, zine-making parties, and the Lilith Fair influencing my identity alongside the hyper-sexualized “girl power” movement. Whether the Indigo Girls or the Spice Girls, both sides of the feminist coin agreed: we were strong badasses who didn’t need a man.

Flash forward a couple decades and the Girl Boss movement of the early millennium took that empowerment to the board room, encouraging women to claim power in the workforce, start their own businesses, and pave their way forward through capitalism.

But nowhere in that imagery did I see a woman who had both a career and love.

Sure, many of the songs I blasted from my radio – and still rock out to today – talked about love, but it was always from a place of tension, heartbreak, and devastation, which further emphasized this belief in me that relationships would only lead to a massive emotional upheaval in your life.

Nowhere in the third-wave feminism imagery I grew up with did I see a woman who had both a career and love.

Then I had one. My first ever lesbian love.

And god, was it even more horrible than the acoustic guitar-wielding coffee shop crooners had said.

She was in the closet, I was painfully insecure, we both were flailing around like the newly minted adults we were, barely able to function on our own, more of less in partnership with each other.

Photo of my best friend and me on the island of Elba in Italy. At the time, I was actively falling in love with the girl who took this photo of us and it hurt like a bitch.

One after another after another, relationships upended my life, none of them lasting more than a year, all of them leaving me devastated and distracted from my bigger life goal of being a rich and famous … I didn’t know what yet, but I knew I was destined for riches and fame!

Each new heartbreak reaffirmed my suspicion that there was no way to have a relationship and a career.

So I chose my career.

Eventually even going so far as to shut down my popular sex blog because the pursuit of pleasure was getting in the way of professional aspirations.

I went to therapy, healing my own wounds and generational trauma.

I built SchoolForWriters.com up to a values-aligned and financially abundant business.

I published a novel that’s in almost every bookstore and airport in the nation right now.

I made all but one of my lifelong goals come true – and the wheels are in motion for that final one.

I did it all. Now what?

I've hit my goals – what comes next?

Reviving the Queerie Bradshaw blog is part of this bigger life question of “now what”?

I don’t yet know the answer – and I’m not sure a solid one will ever come, that’s just life, but I do know a few things for sure:

1. It must center pleasure.

2. It will include multimedia storytelling.

3. I cannot do it alone.

It’s that last part I am struggling with the most.

I know how to center pleasure: I wrote a sex blog for years, did my law school thesis on porn, am a total foodie, and have made joy the core of all I do since watching my brother die young.

I know how to tell stories in multiple mediums: I got a B.A. in cinema, have had multiple video podcasts, and love writing blog posts with pictures.

But I worry that I’ve spent so many years learning to be an independent woman who is comfortable on her own, that I don’t know how to let someone intimately into my life.

Yes, I can buy myself flowers. But I would love to have a lover show up at my door with some.

Yes, I can travel all over the world by myself. But I long to hold someone’s hand while walking down the streets of Coyoacán.

Sure, I can give myself an amazing orgasm. But I miss the feel of having someone there to experience it with me.

I love taking myself out for a good meal, but I’m tired of my journal being my only companion when I travel.

So, I’m out there dating again. And let me tell you, it’s as hard as I remember!

But I am softer.

I’m letting down the walls. I’m being honest with what I want. I’m treating myself and my dates with a tenderness and gentility that we all need right now in this moment.

One of the best things about being an independent woman who can take care of her own needs is the privilege of dating without desperation. I am not looking for someone to validate my worthiness of love. I’m not pretending to be something I am not. I’m not shrinking to be what I think others want.

I am dating with clear intentions and bold confidence – two things I didn’t have before.

Have I gotten flowers, orgasms, and romantic trips yet?

You’ll have to subscribe to find out in a future post. ;-)

I can tell you this, dating is still as time-consuming, emotionally tumultuous, and nerve-racking as it always has been. But I am more experienced, empowered, and capable of handling it with care – and that makes all the difference in the world.

What's something you can totally do for yourself but wish someone else would do for or with you?

Let me know in the comments!