Make You Feel My Fantasy Love

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Zakiya Jackson

Zakiya Jackson

Zakiya is a lover of words—and creatively uses them by entertaining and compelling her friends and family or even strangers.Like a salmon swimming upstream, Zakiya recently returned to Washington D.C where she works in education advocacy and community development.Zakiya places high value on faith, racial justice, , Anthony Hamilton and laughter.Fancy, woke and southern, she’s generally passionate about being alive.She prefers singing in the keys of E or D or whatever second sopranos sing. Message tees & Bryan Stevenson are everything.
Zakiya Jackson

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We love in the US.  

Maybe more than we love love itself. Ya know?

We especially love fantasy love.

Cue Delilah.  

Don’t play.  

 

Also cue Drake. Y’all know his Afro-Canadian heart just wants to be loved while he dancing all awkward talmbout hotline bling. He look so sad and FOMOish sitting on those stairs. Bless his light skinned heart.

Don’t hate on me Drake stans.  Lol.  I’m a light bright sensitive Negus too.  He still handsome.  


Even Mary J. Blige’s real love has some fantasy embedded in it.

Finding our everything in someone else sounds like a recipe for disaster.

And divorce. Or married misery.  Or single exhaustion. A love TKO.

No one who needs to be everything is ever able to be enough.  

But if the goal was being enough, then being enough could out.

And then together, people being enough to each other could actually end up being more than enough.

It’s legit hard though, I get it. (Werk, Werk, Werk.) 

I listened to Delilah too.  

And the Quiet Storm.

Real talk, I wanna make a baby while listening to the Quiet Storm.  #ISaidIt #WhoMad

Hahahaha.  So yeah, even though I now possess the intellectual & spiritual knowledge and emotional capacity to pursue love grounded in a beautiful reality of enough…

I am still tempted by the seduction of fantasy love.

 

(White) Adele has a song called “Make You Feel My Love.”

Why do I get up in my feels with this song. Why Z.   

Because there are people in my life, romantic or not, for whom over the course of life

I wanted to make feel my love.

If they only felt it, everything would work out right?

If you only understood how amazing my love is, you’d want it right?

You’d calm down. You’d do right. You’d be all you can be. Etc.

“The storms are raging

On the rolling sea

And on the highway of regret

Though winds of change

Are throwing wild and free

You ain’t seen nothing

Like me yet

I could make you happy

Make your come true

Nothing that I wouldn’t do

Go to the ends

Of the Earth for you

To make you feel my love.”

I like the song because it reflects the longing in me sometimes.

The longing to be able to deposit my love wholeheartedly into someone

And have them receive it and give me their own.

The problem though, in addition to the myth that love is all we need, is the fantasy notion that grown folks can make other grown folks do any damn thing.

That’s actually subtly wrapped in a the same thing respectability politics is wrapped in.

False notions of how people are oriented towards executing behavior.  

These ideas are nuanced.

I do believe that it is important, for example, in the pursuit of love, to prove ourselves to each other.

I need to provide receipts for my trustworthiness.  I gotta show myself to be affectionate in the way the person needs affection.  I need to show my humanness with an eye towards how it impacts their humanness.

While I do those things, however, I must hold the tension of knowing that I can’t make another person feel my love.  I could do all the right things, and for reasons completely unrelated to me, they might still reject it.  I could do a bunch of things wrong and they might decide to receive my love anyways.  Love is tricky. Love is risky.  

The acceptance and growth of love may be more about each person’s ability to intimately look in the mirror and confront love.  What it is.  What is scary. What works and what doesn’t.  

I told a good friend of mine the other day that I feel like, recently, some people folks who love me are looking at me but don’t see me.  They love me as much as they know love.  They just have limits.  It seems like this happens especially when my existence rattles them.  Maybe they see me as someone who’s approval they need, but not as someone they need to understand and be present with.  It hurts.  

Fantasy love is intoxicating, but it ultimately hurts.  It makes it hard for us to see each other as whole people.  It makes it easier to objectify each other – because a fantasy, while fun, is ultimately just a vision of what I could have if everything went my way.  A deep abiding love does require me knowing what I do and don’t want, and so to speak, what my fantasies are…but it doesn’t stop there.  I have to engage with my beloved about those things…and that is really hard.  And requires a lot of work in first knowing myself.  

I usually enjoy Valentine’s Day as an excuse to deposit some of that extra love I got to give. 🙂 I see it as a highly commercialized day as well, filled with lots of fake notions of love. Lol.  But no matter, I’ll still make some of my own love offerings. And in love for myself, even whilst singing along to a selection of my favorite love songs, I’ll bear in mind fantasy versus fiction.  
And that is a real love that isn’t quite so glamorous, but does make dreams come true.