My New-Found Addiction. Also, Dragons.

Guys. Guys, guys, guys. Guysguysguysguysguys!

A few nights ago, I got an Etsy account.

And I’m starting to suspect that I’m developing a problem.

Why? Well… (1) I already have over thirty pages of favorites, (2) I have taken the Taste Test probably over forty times, (3) I’m on the verge of buying a bunch of stuff that I LOVE but don’t need, and (4) with money I don’t have.

This is not good. Why did shopping have to come to the internet? It makes controlling my compulsive spending so much more difficult. I hate it!

But I love it!

I’m buying my first thing from Etsy as I write this- this ear cuff from a shop called martymagic. And it is oh-so-beautiful. I can not wait until it actually gets here. I am so in love with it already. I thought about waiting until I actually had it in my hand to write about it, but I just couldn’t. I love it so so much.

I love it because of the amazing talent and the amount of time behind it. I love it because I just love the fantastical world, where dragons and elves and magic exist. I love it because of the way it seems to be whispering into your ear- it reminds me of Jiminy Cricket and Pinocchio. Like a really bad-ass conscience. I love it because dragons are an integral part of Chinese mythology (which, if you don’t know, I find a great sense of identity in) and this feels like having my own private guardian to watch over me and keep me safe. I love it because it kind of reminds me of Mushu’s line from Mulan: “I’m travel-sized for your convenience!”

This ear cuff is so me- it’s so perfectly me that I couldn’t even believe I just stumbled into it. I’ve never been one of those people who instantly falls in love with jewelry (although I can’t say the same for clothes.) Maybe it’s a little weird to feel this emotionally attached to an inanimate object that I don’t even have yet, but I can’t help it, and I don’t want to.

Dragons are the strongest creatures in Chinese mythology. Unlike a lot of dragons in European mythology, they aren’t evil or greedy- they are benevolent, revered, even god-like. They symbolize power and strength, and many of them have control over the elements or some aspect of nature. In Chinese, being called a “dragon” is a huge compliment. But most importantly, they are the luckiest creatures on Earth.

I like to think that my finding this piece means something. Yes, it’s superstitious, and no, it probably doesn’t mean anything at all, really. But I want to believe it does. I want to believe that this little dragon is coming into my life for a purpose- to give me good luck. To help me remember my own inner power. To help me find my place in the world. I want to believe that with him comes a good time in my life. I want to believe that this dragon brings with him a fresh start.

But no matter what, I think I’ll name him Felix. Seems like a good name for a dragon.

Love,

The Femme Fatale Farmgirl

P.S. If you have another idea for my dragon’s name, leave it in the comments! Maybe I’ll like it even better than Felix.

By the way… this is not a sponsored or endorsed post. I wrote about this because I wanted to, and I tell you where I bought my ear cuff to give the shop the credit they deserve. The picture in this post is also from the shop- I just used it so you guys could see what it looks like.

 

Flavors of Soul Mates

Love is a confusing emotion. Sometimes it’s wonderful, but sometimes it’s awful. Sometimes it builds us up, and sometimes it’s out downfall. Sometimes it’s what we want, and sometimes we wish we didn’t have the capacity to. But the interesting thing is, most of us, as humans, still want to love and be loved.

We write songs and stories about it. We watch television shows and automatically expect the romance lives of the characters to work out, even if that’s not the true focus of the show. We watch action movies and expect a romantic subplot. Even as children, we play-act at marriage and sharing our lives with someone. We grow up hearing about “true love’s kiss.” We, as a culture, have an expectation that we will one day be loved by someone. We expect to live with them, to marry them, to bear children with them. We expect to grow old together, die together, and (depending on your religion) be together for eternity.

I have no problem with this expectation- I find it completely reasonable. It fulfills the desires of our base instincts, such as reproduction and protection, while also conforming to the “single-partner” society we have. (Which, for the record, I’m a big fan of.) However, something that has existed for as far back as I can go is the idea of a soul mate- someone who is intended to “complete” you, to compliment you perfectly. Your one true love.

It’s not a modern concept, surprisingly enough. The earliest record I know of is a old Grecian tale- originally, when we were created by the gods, humans all had four arms, four legs, and two faces. But, in this form, we were so powerful and beautiful that the gods grew to fear us. So, Zeus tore all of us in half and tossed us to all corners of the world, dooming us to walk this Earth searching for our “missing half” forever.

It’s an interesting story, if a little graphic. But it doesn’t stop with Greeks. Many religions believe that their God has designed a person who is perfect for you and you will meet them and fall madly in love and you’ll live happily ever after.

The idea that one person in this world is guaranteed to be with you eventually, because, damn it, you were meant to be- it’s nice. It doesn’t matter who you are or what you’ve done or what your past is. There’s one person who is 100% yours on a basic level- a level of destiny. The idea of soul mates is comforting.

But I don’t buy it.

I don’t buy this idea that there’s only ONE person for you. The statistics of it don’t make sense- in a world of over 7 billion people, there’s only one happy ending for everyone? With just one person? No matter if you’re a world traveler or you never leave your home town, your perfect match will just be there for you to find, like a piece of gold? And what ever happened to free will? Don’t I have a choice? Oh, sure, he’ll be perfect for me, so why would I say no? I’ll tell you why- because I’d rather CHOOSE an imperfect guy than be “destined” for the perfect man.

I don’t want a guy who is perfect. Sure, “perfect” and perfect for me are different. But… no, it isn’t. Both sentiments hold the expectation that he is the perfect fit for me. That he is the perfect yin to my yang, the vanilla ice cream to my chocolate, the light where I am dark.

But you know what? I’ve never liked chocolate and vanilla ice cream together. I prefer chocolate and cherry, or chocolate and mint, or chocolate and coffee. So what if I decide I don’t want a vanilla guy. Suppose I leave him, and choose to be with Mr. Coffee or Mr. Cake Batter. Well, what does he do then?

Which brings me to my second problem with the concept of soul mates- what if one of the two decide that they aren’t? Is the other doomed to walk the Earth alone, trying without success to find another piece that fits? Or worse, not trying at all, instead simply longing for what was? Waiting for the day (which may never come in reality) for his “soul mate” to come running back to him?

This is the saddest fate I can imagine. To have love and have it taken from you, either by choice or not, but in a way that recovery is not even possible, that no one else will ever fill the gap, where you would have known the light but never be able to touch it… can I even call this a life? Or would it merely be a shadow of an existence?

I do not like the ingrained concept of soul mates. I refuse to believe that it is true. Why? Because love is capable of crossing distances, of crossing cultures, of crossing religions, of crossing social standings. It goes in all directions. I don’t believe that it would consent to being restrained to going between two people.

I believe our soul mates are whomever we choose. We choose them throughout life- from noticing them, to the initial attraction, to asking them out, to saying yes, to calling after, to asking out again, to going steady, to fighting with them, to making up, to engagement, to the aisle, to a new place to live, to sharing the money, to the first kick of the child.

That is the true power of a love that is shared- not that it was predetermined, but that it was not. That the path was deliberately chosen, that the good and the bad times were weathered, that this couple, no matter who they are or what they have done or what they will do, has chosen the flavor they want- another person with whom to be identified.

When it comes right down to it, I’d rather be able to get two scoops of any combination of flavors and have to pay than get two predetermined scoops for free.

Love,

The Femme Fatale Farmgirl