Flowers are pretty and smell nice. They make nice gifts as a symbolic gesture to those you care about. Unless, of course, the person you’re buying flowers for doesn’t really like flowers, or maybe has an allergy to the particular variety you bought.
But mostly, they’re nice. Like chocolates. And jewelry. And champagne. And dinner reservations at the nicest places.
There are two reasons that gifts are (usually) nice:
- They demonstrate that someone voluntarily went outside of their daily routine for the sole purpose of making another person feel valued and cared for.
- The gift, in and of itself, usually provides value for the recipient. Gifts are usually not one-size-fits all. Thoughtful gift buyers effectively match the gift to the person they’re buying for, so that we’re not giving Boston Red Sox fans a New York Yankees hat, or giving child-size winter mittens to adult men living in balmy Miami, Fla. (Unless you’re being intentionally ironic, which I’m entirely on-board with.)
I don’t know how it works in other countries, but in the United States most businesses are required by law to accommodate physically handicapped people.
Handicapped parking spaces near entrances, wheelchair ramps, and extra-large bathroom stalls to accommodate wheelchair users.
Well. To be considerate.
I can’t speak from experience, but I imagine most blind people don’t spend a lot of time in art museums. I imagine most deaf people don’t spend a lot of time at concerts. I imagine most people who don’t know how to swim don’t spend a lot of time participating in competitive swimming. I imagine most people without arms don’t work as hairdressers. I imagine most people with deadly bee sting allergies don’t work as beekeepers.
I realize how obvious all of this is, but what’s truly amazing is that these same principles apply to EVERYONE we encounter in life.
Certainly not everyone’s ‘conditions’ or ‘handicaps’ or ‘shortcomings’ are going to be as obvious to others as blindness and wheelchairs might be, but I think the case can be made that we should know about these things in all of the people we are close to—like say our spouses, children, siblings, parents, best friends, etc.
And I don’t mean ‘should,’ like it would be nice someday. I mean SHOULD, like how is it even possible that we don’t already know?
About someone who lives in the same house? A wife or husband who we vowed to love and honor all the days of our lives?
How is it even possible that we don’t know THEIR ‘things’ so well that every move we make automatically includes our consideration of them and their needs?
Until We Get This (Like Really Get it Down in Our Bones and Soul), Our Flowers and Chocolates are Little More than Concert Tickets for the Deaf
Our spouses don’t want things (even if they actually like things).
Your spouse wants to be considered. She, or he, wants to be considered because they are a person.
And people want to be considered.
No one wants to be the kid in the wheelchair hanging out with his friends, and while they’re all deciding what do together on Friday, they pick some activity that’s totally impossible to participate in from a wheelchair.
So everyone else goes and has a great time, and leaves you sitting there, alone and wheelchair bound.
It’s scary how apt that metaphor is to the average wife and mother in 2019.
Dad and Son and Daughter run off to watch TV, play video games, text their friends after dinner, and mom is abandoned in the kitchen to put food away, clear the table, wash the dishes, etc. while everyone else is off having fun doing the things they want to do.
That’s making your wife the abandoned kid in the wheelchair.
That’s making your mom the abandoned friend in the wheelchair.
‘I want to be considered.’
That’s what my married friend said after her husband changed their Valentine’s Day plans without talking to her about it first, creating a cascade of inconveniences she had to account for and deal with because of the last-minute changes.
Her husband had a schedule conflict. So he fixed the problem by adjusting his schedule.
Adjusting his schedule created SEVERAL problems for his wife. Enough to more than negatively offset all of the previous kind and thoughtful things he’d said to her on Valentine’s Day.
Flowers are nice.
But being considered is REALLY nice. And flowers are a demonstration—evidence—that you are considering someone you care about.
Chocolates and pajamas and stuffed animals and dinner reservations and jewelry—all the things—are nice.
People like getting things, but outside of children, MOST people like getting things because thoughtful acts of generosity and/or pleasant surprises from those we love and want to love us make us feel good.
It’s not really more complicated than that.
When we are considered—which is another way of saying RESPECTED, or LOVED, or CARED FOR, or HONORED—we feel good.
When we are not considered—which is another way of saying DISRESPECTED, or ABANDONED, or NEGLECTED, or DISCARDED—we feel shitty.
This scenario is not limited to Valentine’s Day, anniversaries, and birthdays. The opportunity for this scenario to occur happens EVERY SINGLE DAY. And it does.
And the difference between good relationships and bad ones—between good marriages and bad marriages—boils down to this one simple, but deceptively complex idea.
When you say things, do things, make plans—in your daily life—are your romantic partner’s needs CONSIDERED?
The quality of your relationship—and the relative impact of your bouquet of flowers on Valentine’s Day—depends on it.
Happy Valentine’s Day, everyone. (Even you, my single partners in crime.)