Valentine’s Day is not my favourite day of the year. In fact, it’s almost my least favourite day of the year. Actually, it is my least favourite day of the year.
Whenever I say that, I am instantly reprimanded by my friends. My friends will want to know why I hate it so much, and why I always have…
It’s simple, really. I hate Valentine’s Day because it puts such pressure on us all to spoil our beloved with tokens of affections, and if we don’t get spoiled (or do the spoiling), we feel crappy about it.
This Valentine’s Day, Matt and I argued. Then we kissed and made up. We broke the secret, unwritten rule that one must never fight on Valentine’s Day. We never were ones for rules.
He didn’t buy me flowers or chocolates, and I didn’t get him anything either. We prefer to wait until tomorrow, when all chocolate goes on sale. We are equally in agreement that sale chocolate is the best chocolate.
We don’t need a day to express our love, to shower each other with affection and tokens. We try to do that every day. Some days we suck at it, other days we are great at it. But guess what, Valentine’s Day still makes us both angry. Angry because we feel like we are letting each other down, angry because we feel the pressure put on by Hallmark and all those commercials to “show her you really care” by buying jewelry, flowers or chocolate. Angry because the message that’s being sent out is “if you don’t do something miraculous, you fail at love”.
Usually, we are both very good at ignoring this day. But now that we have a school aged child, it’s much harder to ignore. I had to help him fill out Valentine’s for his classmates (so much writing) and in turn, we got this sweet little Valentine.
I’ll admit, that warmed me and chipped away [some of] the ice around my heart. But I suppose anything involving my children makes me melt into a puddle of awww shucks.
I still don’t think much of Valentine’s Day, though.