Sometimes, you only need a little love and approval to spend the day. Who can be more suitable for you than yourself?

Give any friend a story

As a subscriber, you have 10 gifts to send every month. Anyone can read what you share.

I stood in front of the kitchen counter and eagerly cut the scissors along the packing tape. It was about a year ago, and a package with my name on it-not from Amazon-arrived in a hurry. Pushing down the flip of the box, a midnight blue ceramic cup shows a whimsical nighttime mountain view carving. Packaged with the cup is a note on a white card paper, about the size of an index card.

The note was written in black ink and read: "Dear Lia, congratulations on writing this article. You know you can do it, and you did it. This is a gift to celebrate that moment."

I already know how it will end—love, Lia—because I am the one who bought the cup and wrote to myself.

I took the note in my hand and read it a few weeks later, which made me ecstatic. Knowing that I am the one who wrote it makes it more meaningful.

Why should I be my not-so-secret admirer? After all, this summer, my husband and I celebrated our 10th wedding anniversary. In these 10 years, we have experienced graduate school, our first job, three big moves to different states and small states, the birth of a beautiful baby girl, and an epidemic. We have successfully weathered the storm together. He is my best friend. His phone number is the only thing I remember. For my more dreamy and emotional Pisces, he is a down-to-earth but ambitious Capricorn.

However, if I have learned anything in these 10 years, it is how important self-love is. In the pre-vaccination stage of the pandemic, this really entered a stage of rapid development, when life was a series of days full of anxiety.

The deadline becomes more feast or famine than usual. At that time, that beautiful baby girl had become an avid toddler, barely taking care of the child. I miss my social life. The current state of the world gives me a very headache. Self-doubt hangs over me. It also hung over my husband, who still supported me, but couldn't accept the bait I gave him (ie, grumbling text) as he did in the pre-pandemic period.

So I take things in my own hands. I wrote my first self-love note in October 2020. Yes, I want to celebrate a milestone, but it was during the pandemic before the vaccine that life was really boring. This note is a way to change the situation.

After all, if I need a little love and recognition, why can't I give it to myself? When I celebrated the first important milestone, of course, I felt a bit silly to write a note to myself. Will the ceramic company laugh at me? Then I quickly decided that I didn't care. When I received the first note, my husband smiled and said, "Hey, if it makes you happy."

[Sign up for the love letter and get the latest news about modern love, weddings and relationships via email at any time. ]

A few months after the first note I wrote, I found myself struggling on a particularly gloomy day. My daughter was almost 2 years old at the time and was doing what a toddler is good at: When she didn't get what she wanted, she cried and fell to the ground screaming. To be honest, this is related, because I also have to restrain myself not to lose my temper on the floor next to her.

Then I remembered: Our home is very close to one of my favorite chocolate shops, and I can order online.

A delicious chocolate bar with pineapple and lime flavors is a tropical delicacy that I need to turn the day around. I clicked my way during the ordering process until I saw a box that said "Gift Card Remarks?"

I cheered up and started typing: "Dear Leah, this is what you deserve! Love, Leah."

When I picked it up, the owner of the chocolate shop smiled and said that she liked the note. Sit behind the steering wheel and read it to yourself, holding a chocolate bar in one hand and a note in the other. This is an affirmation. Yes, I deserve it. The act of writing a note forced me to wake up from my fear and admit that I was doing my best. Re-reading it further strengthens the message.

It only costs $6 (it is a beautiful chocolate bar) and I write it in someone else's handwriting, and I get rid of the trough of that day. No one else would do this for me, because no one reads internal news quotes about my emotional state in my mind.

This new habit is not foolproof. Sometimes, this comment is ignored by the supplier. But hey, the act of typing it is half the battle. Stop and consciously think about what I want to celebrate for myself at that moment is part of the point. But when the note is there, it will be sweeter. Of course, I can write a note to myself without buying a gift, but what's the fun?

On another occasion, I took a photo from a magazine article I wrote. This story is very meaningful, and I want to remind it on my wall. The company where I ordered the photo frame has space for a gift paper, so I wrote, "Lia, you have worked hard in this area. You should be proud of it! Love, Leah." However, when it arrived, I had forgotten that With all the contents of the note, when the thin card fell out of the box, it caught me off guard and my eyes were red. When I realized how tacky this moment was, my tears quickly turned into laughter, but I still enjoyed it.

Although I like to buy these gifts and write notes to myself, it does not cure my daily worries. I'm lucky, I can even choose to splurge occasionally (most of my gifts are $20 or less, with a few exceptions). However, I know that too much of anything is not good, and if I do this often, I might risk making special hospitality mundane—and bankrupt in the process.

In the past year, I sent six notes I wrote. Part of the joy of this self-love expression is spontaneity. When will my not-so-secret admirer go on strike again? Only time will tell. At the same time, I scattered the notes I wrote to myself in the house as a reminder to me.

Lia Picard is a freelance journalist based in Atlanta. She shares her adventures and stories on Instagram @LiaPicard.