When a man loves a woman

Today I got upset with my husband and I decided that the best way to solve the conflict was to go away from home.

Sometimes we just need to take space, be on our own and allow our beings to expand without continuously bumping into each other.

I started on a quest of… what else was possible with receiving from men? Not only mine; but men in general, beyond being stubborn? I put on my high heels, my favourite jewelry and a fancy dress and I walked to the city center.

It was a beautiful sunny walk, about 2km long! Yes, I was pissed off enough to take all those steps to a coffee shop – which was closed, ha! – and further to another café to just sit, listen to peoples’ stories and enjoy a cake.

I also looked for a way to snap out of the nasty sticky energies that seemed to be crawling under my skin. The cake was good, but the service horrible. The coffee was mediocre but the space was beautiful.

I walked out of the coffee shop more annoyed than I had entered when I noticed that the nail parlor was open. I knew about it, yet I was always reluctant to get inside. I didn’t know the people over there and I am kind of fussy when it comes to my manicure. This time though I pushed the door and asked if I had to make an appointment.

There were 2 men and a woman behind the protection walls above the treatment tables. The room was packed with loudly speaking clients,  women and a man resting his feet in a pedicure sink. They looked at me with curious eyes and all started to speak at the same time after having stared at me for a short while.

I somehow got that I would have to wait for my turn. I was sitting on the small black stiff waiting chair for about 20 minutes overhearing naughty conversations in different languages, behind masks. As if when you wear a mask people don’t get offended because nobody really understands what you are saying.

When my turn came I sat quietly on my armchair in front of the guy watching me intrigued. I managed to explain in 3 languages combined what I wanted, he then started polishing my nails. I felt naked. He was scrutinizing every corner, every bitten cuticle shaking his head: ‘madam, madam’ and mumbling something to himself in his language (Vietnamese, I learned later on).

I didn’t understand the words but his energy was very clear: nails should be nurtured, not tortured and bitten. When we moved towards the pedicure sink his face looked really disappointed. I could tell from his raised eyebrow that he did not agree with my pedicure care. ‘Nts, nts, nts’ he was shaking his head in disbelief.

He then sat down on a chair in front of me and started singing while manipulating my feet with ticklish gestures. He took me by surprise… nobody had ever sung to my feet before… Has it it ever happened to you?

After a few seconds of astonishment I burst out laughing uncontrollably, hardly keeping in place. Once the color was applied to my toe nails he took a long detailed look at each of them in order to appreciate whether his work was impeccable.

I felt as if I were passing a graduation exam and the moment was dipped in significance. He stood up abruptly, clients were queueing outside the entrance door. When I slipped my feet into the shoes I giggled. There was this sense of relaxation, of space between my molecules that somehow got ignited with this man caring for me in a totally different way. Vulnerable, raw and without a point of view… an invitation to receiving more of me by receiving his care.

The bottom line is… what if we allowed ourselves to step out of our stories and receive the men in our lives without a point of view? Be it the postman the police officer, the teacher… the husband, the brother, the father, the son… regardless of the label this world makes them carry? What would that look like in our reality?

So… I wonder, what is it for a man to love a woman in your view? Care to share?