I checked to make sure, and as best I can tell, I have never written about Valentine's Day. OK, I may have written about it in college in the newspaper, but I'm not sure where I stashed the dead trees to confirm or deny this. Regardless, there's a reason.
I think the day is a crock. I hated it in high school (single). I hated it in college (single for three out of four). I hated it between marriages. To me it's little more than a scam to sell greeting cards. Even now, happily married and in a relationship of almost four years, I still think it's lame.
What's my damage? All of the years that I was single, of course. I didn't have very high self-esteem in my adolescent years to begin with, and there was this "holiday" where you kinda felt like a piece of crap if you weren't paired with someone. I mean, do you remember how awesome it was in grade school, when you'd cut out paper hearts, had candy, and you gave everyone in the class a little card? Then in a few years, you have a dance that you can't go to unless you have a special friend.
Now that I'm older and comfortable in my relationship, I've adopted the stance that there are enough holidays that represent brash commercialism, and I certainly don't need one to tell my wife how special she is. I truly believe that you try to celebrate what you have every single day. Some days I suck at it, I'll admit. Most days, I'm grateful for what I have and do what I can to make it better.
Fortunately, Diana gets me, and doesn't hold this position against me.
No comments yet.