Love, love, love... What is it good for? Absolutely everything.
This phrase is quoted from the British TV series called 'Skins' except originally, it reads 'Love, love, love... what is it good for? Absolutely nothing.' Although I've taken this phrase out of context, I can see where Effy's perspective. Love can make us do and feel the most intense emotions at both ends of the spectrum. I've been where Effy has been many times, breathing the air of a world that feels colourless. When I reflect on the loves that have led me down paths of total and utter heart wrenching heartache, the love in my felt more special, bold, noticeable, safe and warm than it ever had before. I know it's easy to forget the magic of love in a world where hate can be so prevalent, but Dolls? That's what I'm here for. I make the confessions so that you don't have to. This Blog Post is dedicated to the 'everything' that love is good for (and maybe even great).
The grocery store is a place I love to hate and hate to love. I could stand in the grocery store for hours, maybe even days, studying and imagining everything that anorexia won't let me have, like a little kid being told that they can have two marshmallows if they abstain from the first. I play this wicked game with myself, reading nutritional labels and comparing brands and items as though my life depends on it (and ironically, I guess it does). Anorexia feels as though it's elite in the grocery store as it feeds off the judgemental stares from people who have no understanding of the internal torment I'm enduring and feeds off the desire to buy the least quantity and the most expertly than any other customer. Anorexia hates the part of me, Luka, who feels immense emptiness, buying nothing more than what my head allows rather than what my soul desires. One particular grocery shop last week left me feeling everything I just explained and more. It took me longer than usual to make decisions, it was harder than usual to rationalise with myself and I was left feeling totally underserving and completely ashamed of what I'd managed. And that was my state of mind... The type where you feel hopeless and lonely and tired and cold. Until a girl with a big smile approached me with a bouquet of flowers and asked me if I wanted them, just because, no strings attached, an act of iridescent, perfect, pure kindness. It felt like the first time I'd truly breathed the whole day. Love, love, love... What is it good for? Absolutely everything.
And that day, it was my soul, heart, body, life and mind. Every broken part of me felt like it all fit together, even if it had just been for a few hours.
In the many years I've been unwell, I've accumulated my fair share of extreme triggers. But equally, I've managed to overcome an abundance of them. For example, I used to cry if my parents said they were proud of me for eating and now, that comment actually helps me more than any other. However, receiving comments about my appearance remains an unshakeable trigger. My mind consistently manages to interpret it in a way that it wasn't necessarily intended, being that I've gained weight. Logically, I can see that the comment most likely had nothing to do with my weight, however anorexia doesn't allow for even a margin of error. 'Your hair looks healthy', 'You look so full of life', 'You're looking less sick' or 'You appear happier' are all misconstrued. The aftermath of these comments, without failure, leads me down a rabbit hole of restriction, where the only way I can find relief from the immense sting of these comments is to lose weight. I am beyond lucky to have a support network who have navigated their way through this big, sticky, messy web and have found ways to compliment my appearance without triggering me. My favourites are 'You're so beautiful' and 'I love seeing you smile'. But even then, understandably, my most educated and careful loved ones slip through the confusing and ever-changing cracks. So, the chances for a stranger to make a non-triggering comment on my appearance requires as much luck as finding a needle in a haystack. But the other day, it happened. And it felt so nice to be allowed the simple pleasure of receiving a compliment without the weighted input and collateral damage of my demons. The interaction didn't last more than five minutes, but the compliment has remained warming my heart for weeks now. She looked into my eyes with a big smile and she said 'You are just such a pretty woman.' Isn't that the sweetest thing to say to another person? Love, love, love... What is it good for? Absolutely everything.
Dolls, I'm not just a Shopaholic as a fercade online. The me that exists outside of the digital world is as true a Shopaholic as any. So,obviously, everyone who knows me knows that la mode and le maquillage make up a large part of my identity. My best friend is one of the most selfless people I've met, spoiling those close to her with trinkets and tokens whenever she thinks of it. And for months now, she's been keeping aside a pre-loved Marc Jacobs handbag for when we saw each other next. In the past, she's done the same with Dior lipsticks, Peter Alexander pyjamas and in terms of non-price tag gifts, I often receive reels that made her think of me and the sweetest check-in texts whenever I've crossed her mind. I know that without-a-doubt my face lit up and I could see how hers lit up because of that. Her love is a gift that continues to exist forever, a gift that I open on the days I struggle the most, a gift I always leave the house with and a gift I never, ever forget about. Love, love, love... What is it good for? Absolutely everything.
Effy always managed to pull of the most coniving looks and phrases but her charm didn't run over my head with this one. Love has proven to be my only source of refuge in times where I haven't wanted to exist. So perhaps that makes me biased but it won't stop me from believing and sharing that love does, in fact, improve everything.
Kisses,
COS x
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