I may be biased on this subject but I don't care. The idea of Southern hospitality is a part of my dna. I was raised with manners. There are just some things that are as second nature as breathing. I call older people "Mr." & "Mrs." I speak to people all the time. That's just a Southern thing. I didn't realize this until I lived on the West coast. People are seriously different there. Shockingly different to this southern belle.
The only thing I despised about living in California was how rude the people were. Perfect example: I'm walking down the street on the sidewalk. A woman is walking on the same sidewalk towards me. I do not know her nor does she know me. I say hi and smile. I make no attempt to facilitate a conversation. This woman sees me speak to her. She alerts her eyes and walks passed me as if I don't exist. Really? How freaking rude? Does she have no manners or sense of social decorum? Who does that? This was a daily issue for me and my cousin in southern California. Speaking to another human being costs you nothing. How can people be so rude for no reason?
I am not used to that behavior. Nor will I ever be accepting of it. In the South, we speak to everybody. It's common courtesy. It just makes sense. If I see you, I will acknowledge your presence in some way. A smile, a head nod, a wave or saying hello will always do. They all convey my thoughts. As a kid, that was drummed into me. If you see someone, you say hello. In the words of my great Grandmother, "Hello ain't ever hurt no one. Not the person who says it or the one who receives it." In other words, mind your manners and act like you have some home training.
There are just certain things that I learned as a child that I can't shake. Good values never go out of style. So, if you see me, speak. Trust me, whether I'm having a good or bad day, I will speak. That's the way one is supposed to behave. Besides, you never know what that tiny moment of niceness would mean to the other person. Like I said, maybe it's just me. I'm a born and bred Southern girl. Southern hospitality is what we do. No matter where I am in the world, I can't shake that either.
I Love You. Three little words that mean so much. Eight little letters that can virtually change lives. It's something that until I was in my late 20's that I truly understood the true meaning of it. Yes, I've said it before then. Once to someone I didn't love at all. I only said it because he said it. Sad but true. I said it to my first love as well. But, we weren't the saying I love you all the time types. That should've been the biggest red flag. I conveniently missed it. I remember that before I only said it as a response. I never was the person who initiated the love conversation. I didn't think a girl was supposed to say it first. Then, I grew up and left that little girl behind. I became a woman who had to get those words out someway. Because I felt them and they needed to be said. But, luckily, I found my way back to love again. This time, it was different.
I was completely surprised to find myself in love again. I wasn't looking for it. Actually, I had decided that my life would be better without it. I was in a weird emotional space then. I remembering dreaming that I told him I loved him. I woke up and my first thought was "Oh my God, I'm in love with him! When did it happen?" I also remember smiling about that thought. When I realized I was falling in love when seeing his name on my cell conjured up the butterflies. I tried to deny it because I was sure I wasn't worthy of it. I pushed it way down deep inside. Little did I know that it doesn't work like that.
I remember the exact moment I wanted to say "I love you" to him. It was the Saturday after Thanksgiving 2010. I stopped myself. I literally ate those words because I was scared that he wouldn't know what to do with them. Or that he didn't feel the same so he wouldn't reciprocate. I knew he like me a lot and that he cared about me. But we were talking about love. This was huge and new for me and him too. I was a mess emotionally that day. I was crying and couldn't get my thoughts together. I held it in for about two weeks. I actually wrote it in Spanish on a blog. He saw and of course my guy asked me what it meant. I knew then that he felt the same. We finally said those words to each other. And, once they were out, we've never stopped saying them.
Yes, I was afraid of his response. But, I also knew that I loved him enough to handle it. There comes a lot of responsibility with those words. People shouldn't say them if they don't mean it. I tell my nieces and nephews I love them all the time. Because I want that to be a big part of their memories of me. As far as romantically, I've not been a woman who's loved a lot. But, I love hard and deep. And, I always mean it when I say it now. There is no other way to say that. I Love You. Three little words. Eight little letters. Mean it when you say it. Tell me your first time I love you stories. I want to know.
