Live for yourself, Ellie urged as we shared a midday break, stirring her tea in a flimsy paper cup. You never think of you! Everything is for your husband and your boy! She was talking about my husband, Mark, and our son, Tom. Ellie was thirtyfour, clever, striking, three years younger than me, yet she constantly lectured me on selfcare.
Theyve both leant on your neck and pinched your cheek! she went on. All I hear is you saying to Mark, to Tom. Youve been catering to them! Live for you, darling! Take a walk, indulge yourself! I nodded in agreement. Ellie had been married for seven years and had no children. You have to start living for you, she always said.
What are you always rushing home after work? Teach them to cook! Are they helpless? They can make something for themselves! Men are thankless beasts. No matter how much you try, they never appreciate it! Ellie glanced at her immaculate manicure. Mark doesnt even whine for a meal. Frozen meals are always in the fridgejust grab and eat. He once wanted a beetroot soup and a casserole, but Id have sent him straight back to his desk! He married a beautiful womanhe should create the right conditions. Im not a cook, Im not stepping foot by the stove. Earn more and hire a cook! I sighed. Only people like Ellie could afford such luxuries; Mark would still love her. My situation was very different.
But Ellie was right. I had to live for me. From tomorrow Id be on holiday, and Marks break would start in a week. Id have an entire week to treat myself.
That morning I lingered in bed, letting Mark and Tom get ready for work and school. They didnt nudge me; they seemed to understand that my own life was beginning. As they left, I handed each a bag of sandwiches, kissed them, and wished them a good day.
Where to start my selfcare? I stared at my reflection, dissatisfied. Fine! I declared. I would have a quick breakfast, then head to the salon and shopeverything for me.
At the salon I contemplated the hairstyles on the wall. I settled on a medium bob. After the cut I felt ten years younger; I imagined Mark would love it.
In a buoyant mood I drifted to Westfield. I tried on a few jacketsnone suited. Then a pullover, halfzipped, caught my eye. The print was the same one Tom adored, and the size was perfect. I pictured his grin, his grateful hug, and a flood of positive feelings. I bought the sweater, thinking only of me.
I wandered through boutique after boutique, eyeing bags, shoes, dresses, until I was exhausted. A sign in the fragrance department promised massive discounts. There it wasmy favourite Dior mens perfume, now on sale. I imagined the scent lingering after Mark left the house, a private indulgence, and I bought it, along with a fresh hairmask to match my new cut.
Feeling pampered, I descended to the basement supermarket. Im a proper sweettooth, so I headed straight to the confectionery aisle. Colourful pastries, palmoil biscuits, sponge cakes with leavening powder stared at me. Nothing tasted better than homemade. I decided Id bake my own treat later.
Ellies frozenmeal advice echoed in my mind. I browsed the gourmet deli, but none of the processed delights sparked any appetiteonly a hint of heartburn. If I was living for me, it had to be with good food. I bought a duck, planning a roast with rice and apples. I would spoil myself.
I returned home, happy and a little flushed. At the door waited our Labrador, Baxter, his tail thumping. Take a long walk, Ellies voice seemed to whisper. I slipped the leash on him and set off, tossing a ball, hunting for sticks, doing everything for my own pleasure. After the stroll I checked the mirror again; my skin glowed in the fresh air.
While the duck cooked and the apple cake baked, Mark and Tom came back. Marks eyes lit up at my new look, his voice warm. You look gorgeous today, he said, kissing my cheek, a soft youthful spark in his gaze.
Mom, you look like my older sister, Tom remarked, admiring the bob. The haircut really suits you!
We all sat down to the duck and cake Id prepared, a little treat for my own heart.
Everything is simply marvelous, love, Mark praised.
Mmm, Tom mumbled, shoving another bite of cake into his mouth. I love it when you bake.
After Mark washed the dishes and Tom tidied the flat, I handed them their gifts. The sweater was a hit; Tom wrapped me in a grateful hug.
Later, just before bedtime, my phone rang. It was Ellie, voice trembling. Can you believe that ungrateful bloke dumped me! He left for some new girl from work, a real nightmare. Hed been flirting with her for ages I spent the best years of my life on him I tried to soothe her, telling her shed find a good manno, a decent partnersoon, that she deserved happiness now that she was free. She started sobbing, then, oddly, began to laugh.
Late that night, with Tom already asleep, Mark lit candles and uncorked a bottle of red wine.
Are we celebrating something? I asked, sipping the wine, its rich aroma filling the room, feeling Marks loving gazes.
With a woman like you, every day feels like a celebration, he murmured, kissing me tenderly.
Later, curled on Marks shoulder, halfasleep, I thought how wonderful it truly was to live for myselfespecially when surrounded by the people you love and the reasons you love them.