I am a romantic.
I love LOVE.
I secretly adore writing poetry, and not-so-secretly adore daydreaming about happy endings and the feeling of butterflies in my stomach.
But I hate Valentine’s Day.
In my opinion Valentine’s Day is all about immense societal pressure and public displays of affection. For me Valentine’s Day has always followed a tremendous build-up of emotions and unrealistic expectations. Maybe this traces back to me wondering if anyone would send me a stupid $1 carnation in high school or would I be the only person without one. Or maybe back in young adulthood when there was always the worry of if I would be the only single one in my friend group with nothing to do on February 14th. And then if I wasn’t single, what would my partner and I do to make it THE MOST SPECIAL DAY IN THE HISTORY OF DAYS???
Unsurprisingly when there is that kind of pressure put on one single day, there is bound to be some letdown.
So I decided I’m out.
I prefer not to read your mushy declarations of love on social media. And for me – keep your dozen red roses and jewelry and chocolates. I don’t want that stuff, especially on Valentine’s Day.
What my romantic heart wants is different from all that commercial Valentine’s Day represents.
I want the thoughtful gestures and vulnerable words and for someone to remember tiniest things about me. Like the tattoo I’ve been dying to get. How I like my eggs cooked. The podcasts I love to listen to. The story I mentioned once all those years ago. The things that seem insignificant but that show me you are listening and paying attention.
Don’t get me wrong. I’ve had some pretty great V Days. Just overall? Nope. Not my cup of tea (read: coffee).
I will choose thoughtfulness over the showiness of this holiday any day. And I think thoughtfulness should be shown every day of the year.
Not just on February 14th.