We drove by my old neighborhood today, passing a restaurant I used to ‘find love’.
There are days when I don't need food.
I need love.
Fortunately, there are restaurants for that.
Years ago, there was a season when I was working multiple jobs and living alone, far from family support.
Life felt heavy.
On those days, I would take myself out to dinner.
Not because I was hungry.
Not because I had something to celebrate.
I simply needed to sit somewhere that felt warm and welcoming for an hour.
I learned to seek out diners and small restaurants with older wait staff. Places where nobody was rushing me out the door. Places where people still had time to ask how my day was going.
The food mattered.
But not as much as the feeling.
A smile.
A refill before I had to ask.
Someone remembering my usual order.
A waitress calling me "hon" or "sweetheart."
For a brief moment, someone was taking care of me.
I think we underestimate the emotional work these small interactions perform. We dismiss them because they happen in restaurants, coffee shops, and diners.
Yet many of us know exactly what it feels like to walk into a place where someone recognizes us.
"Good to see you again."
"The usual?"
"How's your week been?"
These are small things.
But they remind us that we exist.
That someone noticed we came back.
These days, whenever life feels particularly overwhelming, I still find myself seeking out that same feeling.
My inside voice would say, "I need some love."
I don't necessarily need a fancy dinner.
I don't even need company.
I just need a little care, consideration, and kindness from the world.
And a reminder to offer the same in return.
After all, the waitress, the cashier, the barista waitress may be carrying things I cannot see as well.
More soon.