I bought a hummingbird feeder today.
For myself.
This one is made from glass, not plastic. Beautiful in its own right, but will be majestical when the birds come to visit. A gift that will provide me with happiness for months to come (provided that I make the sugar water, put it outside, and remember to clean it out).
For most of my life, buying gifts for myself felt selfish. Actually, as a kid, when it came to anything besides basketball shoes, I even had a hard time allowing my parents to buy things for me. Even when I knew my mom really wanted to buy me that shirt, I just couldn’t say yes. Even now, gifts that don’t come on birthdays or holidays feel like too much.
I know I need to just accept the gift and say “thank you.” I know giving gifts makes the other person happy. But it’s challenging to accept them when my underlying story has always been that I don’t deserve it. I’m not worth it.
While I know logically and spiritually that the story is not true, I need to continue to unravel it so the story dismantles from my heart.
And so I buy myself, and the hummingbirds, a feeder. I also buy myself a new running shirt with birds on it, a shirt that I will probably wear several times a week, while still remaining grateful for all the hand-me-down clothes from my sister. Still sensible. A step outside of my practical*. But for me.
*The previous year I contemplated getting a hummingbird feeder, but rationalized that all my neighbors had them. Plus, I felt guilty about the plastic one that had been gifted to me that I had to throw out because I forgot/didn’t know I had to clean it. And planting flowers would be better anyway…but I’ve never been able to grow anything in my life.
A Dog and Her Girl 