"Twap... Twap... Twap," went my pen as I meticulously tapped it across my notebook.
It was some time in the afternoon my sophomore year of college while I was in my history of sexuality class. I know what you're thinking, ya nasties (as Curly would say). But this class was actually all about the history of sexuality from an ancient Greek and Roman perspective (I was a huge Latin/classics nerd in high school). The teacher was saying something; nothing that I could really remember. All I could focus on was the "Twap...Twap... Twap," of my pen as I meticulously tapped it across my notebook. Cuz let me tell y'all, if there was one thing I learned for sure that semester, it was that classes after lunch were a deadly sin, and that my immediate choices were either this pen or my face hitting this notebook. "Twap... Twap... Twap..." Most days in that class, I was hella annoyed that my professor wouldn't let us use a computer to type our notes (like I got that it was a classics class, but he definitely took it a lil' too serious). But on this day in particular, all I could do was count my blessings, as tapping my pen across my notebook was the only thing keeping me from looking like this kid here...
And then I remember him saying that we were going to be studying Sappho today. For those of you who don't know who that is, she is the only female poet (that we know of) whose work has survived from that era. Most people think she was a lesbian because she wrote a lot about women. I'm not 100% under that impression, especially since we don't have the full texts. But based on what I did read, I feel like she had an honest appreciation of women-- like she knew their worth better than they did, and used her art to show them. Anyway, we happened to flip open the book to this fragment...
“The sweet apple reddens,
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There are a few different ways you can interpret this fragment.
An apple is really high up on a tree. Some apple pickers want it, but are too lazy to go after it, and decide to move on. Or maybe you see it like this; the apple pickers aren’t lazy, but they just didn’t see it. It probably wasn’t as sweet or as delicious as Sappho made it out to be, because how could you miss something like that. Or lastly, maybe you see it like this; the apple pickers aren’t lazy, and they didn’t miss it, but they recognize that this is a good apple-- no, an amazing apple, and that they are in a place in their lives where they don’t have the time, energy, or resources to devote to getting such a beautiful apple. Just because they can’t get this one, doesn’t mean that they don’t deserve to eat, and so they move on. But they always hold in their memory what a pleasure it was to be in the presence of such a sweet and red apple. Maybe this apple even helps them develop a standard for the types of apples they will pursue in the future. But regardless of their reasoning, just because they couldn’t go after that ripe, red apple at that point in time doesn't mean that this should devalue the worth or the sweetness of it. |
Me right after getting my tattoo.
Left to right: Elaine, my college best friend, and me hiking in Joshua Tree, CA.
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But for some reason, I could never unhook myself from this tree. I would pray for many nights into the universe for any apple picker to see me; to validate my worth and my juiciness, even if it meant that I had to lower myself to get to them. I finally got my chance to be shaken free in college, and y'all... it was nothing but three years of ghosting, crappy hook ups, and awful communication. By the time I got to my senior year, I slowly came to realize how much I loved my place back up on the topmost branch.
This all isn't to say that love and relationships aren't important. But rather that the time that I took to re-establish my place at the topmost branch during those two years made me realize how much I didn't just want any ol' apple picker grabbing up at me. I wanted someone who could see how amazing, and ripe, and juicy I was; I wanted someone who wouldn't be intimidated at the thought of coming to get me at my level.
But if there is anything that this fragment has made so clear to me, it is that life is nothing but a game of perspective. You can either choose the narratives that give you strength, or choose the narratives that make you feel less than. For so much of my life, I chose to see myself as less than, when in reality (or at least in my reality), I feel like the universe was trying to show me how I deserved so much more. Remember that you can interpret the fragment in a variety of ways. So why not choose the interpretation that gives you a sense of value? Why not choose the path that gives you strength?
When I think about what I hold so near and dear to my heart about this fragment, it is the realization that my apple is worth hanging on that topmost branch until the end of time; it is fully being able to stand behind and say that I will never let myself drop to be found. So I hope if you've been struggling with finding your sense of worth when it comes to love, you remember that your only job is to shine brightly on the top of that branch, and force someone who is worthy of your sweetness to rise up to what you are worth.
In love, peace, and unapologetic fierceness,
About The Blog
When life gives you frogboys, you can kiss'em. You can even fuck'em. But don't you dare try and put a frogboy in a king's clothing.
Your queendom is strong enough to be run by one crown, and too valuable to pass off to frogboys because of silly things like societal pressure, nagging families, and the infamous "biological clock."
When Life Gives You Frogboys is my blog that is devoted to building care-free single queens. I hope you enjoy all my blog/vlog posts where I analyze my various (and honestly way too many) encounters with frogboys, and how I (Daysha) used the 4 Queen Commandments to become unapologetically care-free and single.
Click the button below to check out my other blog, Unapologetically Me. It's definitely a choice worth making!
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