I Bought the Expensive Lotion

Dear Delyara, Not luxury-expensive. Just more than I usually let myself spend on my own skin. I stood in the aisle holding the cheap bottle in one hand and the better one in the other, and I could feel the old script start up immediately: get the cheaper one, be practical, don’t be ridiculous, save the difference, your hands can survive dry, everyone needs things, you can wait. Then I looked at my knuckles. Cracked, red, split at the edges from winter and dishes and hand sanitizer and not enough care. So I bought the better one. That sounds absurdly small. It didn’t feel small. It felt like choosing not to abandon myself in one more socially acceptable way. When I rubbed it in before bed, I could have cried. Not because of lotion. Because I recognized how starved I am for self-kindness that isn’t apologizing while it happens.