Few things satisfy heart like giving thoughtful gifts to the ones we love

By David McElroy · May 18, 2018

I’m cursed with the desire to give gifts to those I love.

There are few things that delight my heart like having a flash of inspiration about what a woman would love and then rushing off to excitedly make the purchase. When I get such an idea, I’m like an impatient child at Christmas. I can’t wait for this oh-so-perfect gift to arrive or to be delivered.

When I have the right kind of relationship with a woman who wants gifts from me, it’s a magical experience. I honestly don’t want anything in return. I just want to experience her joy at receiving something from me which she honestly appreciates.

It’s when I don’t have such a relationship — when there’s someone I would love to give to, but I can’t — when it becomes a curse. And it seems to be something which I can’t turn off.

Twice today, I’ve run across things which I think a particular someone would love. She will never know that, because she’s no longer in my life — by her choice — and so she will never receive what I’d like to send.

Maybe it seems as though I should be grateful. After all, I don’t have to spend the money which I would otherwise spend to buy something for someone else — for things which would do me no practical good. Maybe that’s the rational way for the brain to feel. But my heart feels cursed that it can’t have the joy of sending gifts.

Some of my most treasured memories from the past are of giving gifts which I knew delighted someone I loved at the time. Even when it’s people who are no longer in my life, the memory of having made them happy does something wonderful for my heart.

In my last serious love relationship, I had a number of ideas for things I desperately wanted to give to a woman, but I was going through a low period financially. I was having trouble simply surviving, so I couldn’t afford most of what I wanted to give to her. It feels terribly unfair that when I’ve finally reached the point when I could afford to give her some of those things — some of them, not all — the relationship is gone.

And I have no idea why I can’t let go of wanting to give her things.

There’s a selfish part of me which would love to find a way to secretly send gifts without letting her know who sent them, but that would be terribly unfair. It would be a violation of psychological boundaries. I won’t do it, but my heart wants to.

When I was young, I enjoyed getting gifts just as much as anybody. For months before Christmas, I wore out the pages of the Sears Christmas Wish Book, dreaming of what I wished someone would give to me.

But getting presents just because they’re things I’d like to have isn’t that enjoyable anymore. There aren’t that many things I want — and the relatively few I would like to have are very, very expensive. So the only presents that mean anything to me are the ones which show that a giver has spent the time and thought to come up with something that’s perfect for me, even if it’s not expensive.

The more mature I get, the more I mostly want to give.

I want to give delightful things to a wife — things which she would love, things which she would never have bought for herself, maybe things she thinks she doesn’t deserve. I want to give things to a little girl and a little boy — things which will make their eyes light up with joy and give them hours or days or years of enjoyment.

Having the inspiration for such gifts is magical. It makes my heart sing. Buying such gifts and then delivering them (or having them shipped) to the person I love is exciting. When it’s a gift which is truly thoughtful and right for someone — that feels like giving a piece of my heart.

It’s only a curse when you want to give and you can’t. And that’s where I am tonight.

I’m very eager for the day when I can once again give my heart and my mind through gifts to one I love.

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Stories about young people running away from home often don’t end well, but I just heard a story of a good outcome. The young woman who shared her story with me isn’t a child, though. She’s in her early 20s, but she ran away from home last year. She lived in Michigan with her dysfunctional family. Her mom was addicted to meth and various prescription drugs. She was the only one in the family who worked — and her family took almost all of the money she earned. The only bright spot in her life was a guy she met online playing a video game. The two grew close and fell in love. About 18 months ago, she secretly packed everything she owned — and he drove from Birmingham to Michigan to pick her up without her family’s knowledge. Today, they’re married and have a new baby. She says leaving her family was the second best thing that ever happened to her — and her husband and baby are the best. “He doesn’t seem to understand what a big deal it was,” she said, “but he saved my life. I took a big risk and he did, too, but I’m happy and loved for the first time in my life.” It might not be common, but some runaway stories do end well.

This is apparently what I would look like as a woman, at least according to a ridiculous app called FaceApp that I’ve been playing with late Thursday night. (Find links for iOS and Android here.) It’s been around for a couple of years, but I just downloaded the free version and had some fun. I’m happy to say that the app has diplomatically given me a bit of liposuction in the process, so this is probably more like what I might look like as a woman who’s about 70 pounds lighter. My sisters were both beautiful young women — and one of them annoyed her classmates by winning a beauty contest and then never caring enough about it to mention it again — so maybe our genes are better for females than males. Give it a try. It’s silly, but it’s fun.

Missing someone always seems worst in the wee hours of the morning. Maybe it’s because our days are filled with things that distract us with tasks to accomplish and then we find ourselves alone at night with our thoughts and feelings. I’ve been having trouble sleeping for many months, but I rarely try to explain why, even though I know very clearly. As an evening drags on and it becomes more silent, I seem to be left with the best and the worst of my hopes and fears. And that makes it hard to turn my brain off and go to sleep. In one of her private letters, writer Edna St. Vincent Millay voiced what I feel: “Where you used to be, there is a hole in the world, which I find myself constantly walking around in the daytime, and falling in at night. I miss you like hell.” But would you erase love for someone from your mind to be rid of that torture? In the movie, “Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind,” that’s the central premise, although it takes a long time to understand what’s going on. Two people start out wanting to forget one another, but it turns out that forgetting is even more painful. There’s nothing better than experiencing real love. Living with lost love is terribly painful, but not as painful as losing the part of yourself that still knows how to love unconditionally.

Most parents have been brainwashed to believe that the only responsible way to educate their children is to put them into the hands of “professionals.” These are most commonly government employees who are teaching a curriculum dictated by politicians, but the people from whom children learn the most in traditional schools are their peers. As the culture becomes more dysfunctional and increasingly leads children down dangerous paths, parents are in denial, believing “that happens in other schools” — that their children are safe and well-served in their schools. And let’s be honest. Most parents simply have no interest in putting in the sort of work that would be necessary to give their children a first-rate education that’s less regimented, more personalized and more empowering. It used to be that learning at home was reserved for “religious nuts” and dysfunctional people, but that’s no longer the case. Various forms of non-traditional learning are becoming more accepted. In this eye-opening article, the Foundation for Economic Education lists 100 reasons you should consider teaching your kids at home — and each reason has documentation to back it up. Your children deserve more than any government-run “warehouse for kids” can possibly give them.

I was raised in a very polite culture. We were nice to everybody, even the ones we didn’t like. I carried this attitude into my adult life and even into social media. But I’m increasingly unwilling to put up with people who annoy me. A part of me feels guilty for saying that, but life is too short to put up with people who constantly annoy me. I have a choice. I can decline to associate with such people — without judging their worth as human beings — and there’s no reason for me to feel guilty about it. In some parts of my life, I don’t always have an immediate choice about who crosses my path. But I’m responsible for choosing who I associate with in my personal life and on social media. My new rule of thumb is that if every comment someone makes causes me to scream, “You are a moron,” inside my head, he has to go. I don’t mind people disagreeing with me because of differing values or reasoning, but there’s no reason to tolerate those who constantly annoy us. We have to right and the power to choose who we associate with.

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