Yup. I am a Valentine’s Day hater. When I was a youngin and didn’t quite know any better about the ways of the world and love, I was hopelessly in love with anything love related. Love stories. Valentine’s Day. Engagement. Soul Mates. Then there seemed to be something magical about the lot of love stuff….now? Well…
The Girl was buying a Valentine’s gift for a friend and she pulled me into the red/pink/white section of hearts, cards, and ‘I luv u’. Everything in the designated ‘BUY ME NOW! Or else your wife/gf will never let you live this down!’ section made me physically ill. Even the cards made my palms sweat. The scattered shoppers gave me odd looks out of the corner of their eye or snickered at my disgusted grunts and moans. I hate Valentine’s Day.
When The Girl popped her head around the corner of an adjacent isle, she shook her head and stepped out. “Mommy!” she said with a surprised yet enthused look on her face.
“What?” I answered picking up a heart laden gift bag like it was a dirty diaper.
“Do you have to make that face?! It’s not that bad.” She shook her head again and grabbed my hand and pulled me down another isle. “C’mon. I’m almost done.”
There she was, spending her own money on a gift to show someone she cared and there I was ruining the experience. I suppose when your eyes open and perhaps even when you get a little experience under your belt, certain things in the world just have a different feel. Valentine’s Day has a vomity, break out in hives kinda feel for me. But just because I am a VDay hater doesn’t mean I should ruin it for everyone else. I made an attempt to straighten my face and I even made myself buy a card for Young Gun (who also dislikes VDay), but after about 20 minutes of it riding in the car with me, I decided to take it back.
No matter how much you like/love someone friend or otherwise, making an over the top effort to gift on one particular day is asinine. I just can’t. And you know what? I am comfortable in acknowledging my Valentine’s Hatership. It is just a stupid day–what about the other 364? Just sayin’
Valentine’s Day. Completely and totally overrated if you ask me. It is basically men running around buying gifts trying to make up for 364 days of smelly farts, missed timing, and general ass clown guy stuff. Women stand at the ready waiting for said gifts and gushes of Hallmark provoked affection. I hate Valentine’s Day (Grinch style) which is why this year (technically next year since this is December), I plan on joining in the fray (gotta get passed what you abhor, right). What do they say? If you can’t beat ’em, join ’em? Yea. That. Only I plan on doing it better. I am celebrating alone.
When you go through a break up, the holidays are almost an automatic thought. What about Christmas? What about the New Year? What about….Valentine’s Day?! I will be all alone. No flowers (but he didn’t give them to you anyway), no cards (uh….ok), no presents (yea…another piece of jewelry you didn’t ask for), no dates (dinner and a movie…again)….just………loneliness (cue flat line for death by lonely). I cannot tell a lie, I totally had all of those thoughts, and when I verbalized them to a friend she told me she loved Valentine’s day. “I love on myself extra special that day. I don’t have to have someone else to love–loving me is enough.” Suddenly, finding Romeo didn’t seem so pressing….but I found him anyway.
This Valentine’s Day I will be spending a beautiful evening with Romeo…and Juliet….and a few hundred people. I will be at the ballet–alone and perfectly content with the company. For a couple of years now I have watched The Atlanta Ballet’s Romeo & Juliet production sell out because I didn’t want to go alone, but this go ’round I refused to be victim to stupidity.
Love is not (and should not) be reserved for February 14th. Duh. We know this. However, it generally is and, because I have entered into a new relationship with myself, I want to treat me the way I feel I should be treated. And a romantic evening, dressed up, enjoying an expensive dinner at a restaurant with cloth napkins to celebrate the commercially decided day of love seems like as good a place as any to start. Oh Romeo. Romeo. Where for art thou [my] Romeo? For starters, he will be on stage dancing in pastel tights purely for my enjoyment. Now after the tights come off…well…that’s a completely different story 😉