Ah, yes. Valentine’s. The time of year when we show our love for one another. We shower each other with flowers, candy, wine, cards, & possibly sex. Bow-chicka-bow-wow! 😉
And here’s why I don’t celebrate it:
Yeah. I don’t do Valentine’s. If I want flowers or wine or sex or whatever, I’ll work it out. I don’t need a special day to do so.
I’m not a Scrooge or a Grinch about it either. It’s just not my bag. I haven’t really celebrated it since I was a kid & we had class parties. I used to love to open up all of my valentines from my friends & eat more than my share of tiny chocolates. Allegedly, my dad used to give me a flower for Valentine’s but I honestly don’t remember that. To this day, my parents protest that it happened every year. If that was the case, you’d think I would remember at least one year, right? 😉 But I digress.
At some point in my young life, there was a shift inside of me.
I was a cheerleader my freshman year & half of my sophomore year in high school. I remember we would have singing telegrams & deliver flowers for some fundraiser. Maybe better poms or shorter skirts or something. 😉 It was hilarious to watch the guys embarrass their friends. Jocks sending to other jocks a bunch of cheerleaders singing “Candy Girl” or “Brown-Eyed Girl” is pretty funny. You would get a few actual couples & I’d be lying if I said I didn’t have a little twinge of jealousy. I wanted to be loved.
But even if I was dating someone at that time, I didn’t want a bunch of gifts. If someone wants to give me something, I would rather have them do it out of their love for me & not based off of the calendar. I think it comes from my craving for genuine love. Unconditional, do-or-die love. And for some reason, Valentine’s gives me an artificial taste in my mouth. Does that make sense?
So for me, this is just another Wednesday. 🙂