Here's your place to come talk about sex and love whenever you feel like it.
I’m single on Valentine’s Day for the first time since 1991 and I could not give less of a shit about it.
Even when I was be-coupled, I found the hoopla around this Hallmark holiday re-damn-diculous. First of all, I don’t need a reason to be gifted with chocolate. I will happily accept it any day, you don’t have to set aside 24 special hours just for that, thanks!
Also, giving someone flowers is fucking stupid, because the flowers, no matter how pretty, are ALREADY DYING when they’re bought, and they don’t last long, and what better metaphor could there be for relationships, right? Pass.
Sure, it’s cute when you’re in, say, fourth grade, and everybody gets each other those little paper Valentines with cartoon characters on them saying clever things. When I was in high school, girls would pee their pants with worry over whether someone would send them a “CupidGram” carnation, and what color it would be (white for “I have a crush on you,” pink for “I like you,” or red for “I love you.” I’m not making this up. IT WAS THE EIGHTIES, blame it on that).
But by the time you’ve entered your (alleged) adulthood, you should not be receiving stuffed animals holding one of those ugly Jane Seymour necklaces that looks like a double butt. Laaaaame.
It seems like people make a big deal out of Valentine’s Day because everyone else around them makes them feel like they should make a big deal out of it. It’s like a national case of peer pressure, and it comes at you from all sides until you’re so weary, you just give in to it.
Nice dinners out are always lovely, for sure, but they always mean more without the pressure of some stupid pretend holiday hanging over it. It MUST be romantic! You MUST buy gifts! You MUST get a bikini wax because you MUST wear new lingerie because you MUST have sex! Bitch, please.
When I was married, I had plenty of unromantic Valentine’s Days (and many other unromantic days as well, but let’s not stray too far from the topic) because my wasband didn’t care enough to make an effort. Long-term couples will tell you they don’t do anything special for it. Seriously, ask someone you know who’s been with the same person more than 5 years, and they’ll probably roll their eyes and tell you how they really don’t care about it, but they’ll probably go out to dinner anyway. Romantical!
PS: anyone who gets engaged in the middle of a restaurant on Valentine’s Day? You are setting yourselves up for total failure, because every day will NOT be like that. Suckers.
For those who are single in the middle of all this marketing bullshittery, it’s supposed to be worse, because BOO HOO NO ONE LOVES YOU and you’re ALL ALONE on the “most romantic” day of the year and it just makes you feel extra single. And eff that, hard.
Instead, you should feel extra awesome. Because it’s one day out of 365, and so what if there isn’t a guy to share it with? There’s nothing wrong with you, you know. You’re fucking awesome. You’re so awesome, as a matter of fact, that you’re not going to be the stupid girl settling for anyone just so you can tell people you have a date for Valentine’s Day. Come on, you’re not a character in a Katherine Heigl movie.
Why is this night different from all other nights? Answer: it actually isn’t.
See, I was with my wasband for a total of 14 years, and then went straight into a relationship with my now-ex-boyfriend for 6 years. That ended nearly a year ago. I made a series of very bad dating decisions and am currently in a self-imposed emotional hiatus, which feels like the most right thing for me to be doing at this point. There are other things in life besides men. I’ve turned my Man Radar to the “Off” position for the time being.
I’m sure there will be a point where my body will be all FEED ME and I’ll have to take care of it, but right now? Meh to all that. I have my own crap to deal with, I don’t have the patience or the energy to take on anyone else’s.
At this stage of the game, I’ve pretty much convinced myself of two major things:
- I’ll never have sex with Dave Grohl in my lifetime.
- There is no man in the Portland, Oregon, metro area who’s right for me.
The first thing bothers me because I don’t have to tell you why, but the second thing? Doesn’t bother me at all. I’m one big shrug at the moment. So on this non-holiday holiday, I’ll probably do the same thing I usually do on any given Thursday: have dinner with my sons, watch “Grey’s Anatomy” (hey, I’m not made of stone over here!), and play around on Twitter to commiserate with my fellow singles about how bullshit Valentine’s Day is.
Feel free to join us, we are legion.