Buy Yourself the F*cking Lilies

Virginia Woolf wrote about the importance of making space for yourself in A Room of One’s Own. Though written in 1929, her words are just as urgent today. Her most quoted passage is probably that in order to create, in order to pursue her own passions, “a woman must have money and a room of her own,” free from distraction and judgment.

We get this one human body, and whether you hate it or love it, it’s yours. Any time spent feeling uncomfortable or ashamed of it, past adolescence, is absolutely wasted.

You can’t control how the outside world treats you, but you can and must decide how you treat yourself

Buy the fucking lilies. You are worth seven-dollar lilies. You are worth the thing that instantly makes your life better. I’ve heard people talk about their favorite exercise class this way. I’ve heard people talk about an order of guacamole with their tacos this way. I’ve heard people talk about the ten-dollar, ten-minute massage at the nail salon this way. That small, pleasurable thing that makes you feel like you are treating yourself—do not deprive yourself of this. Buy the fucking lilies, take the class, order the guac, get the massage.

I would stand in the flower section of Trader Joe’s debating whether I was worth seven-dollar lilies. Lilies are my favorite flowers (aside from peonies, of course). I love how they open up with the most wonderful burst of perfume. Lilies give any room instant elegance and calming vibes. I would see the lilies, fall in love, put the flowers in my cart, circle the entire store, decide the lilies were too good for me, put the flowers back in their bucket of water, continue shopping for my weird three-dollar microwavable Indian dinners, only to return to the flowers and, finally, angrily, fearfully, grab them and run for the register. Then I would wait in line for what felt like a lifetime, dwelling on my decision before asking the person in front of me to hold my place, taking the lilies out of my cart, and ditching them on a shelf between the kale and pita chips.

Life is not a series of crises to be endured. Life is to be enjoyed.

There is an excellent line where Alexander Hamilton challenges Aaron Burr (who seems to have v. shape-shifting, wishy-washy principles): “If you stand for nothing, Burr, what’ll you fall for?”

That which you do not deal with deals with you. Always.

Mrs. Dalloway said she would buy the flowers herself.
—Virginia Woolf, Mrs. Dalloway

Paris was exactly as I remembered it: a moody bitch.