For whatever ridiculous hormonal reason, I had a bout of insomnia last night (despite the Ambien) and got about four hours of sleep. Woke up at 5 realizing there was no way to catch anymore z’s so, here I am.
A bit of a rant:
Here’s the thing. I really dislike Valentine’s Day. I’ve gotten a lot crankier about it as I get older, mostly because the whole idea of a Hallmark manufactured specific date on which to shower your loved one(s) with candy, cards, flowers, dinner out, etc. is just that: manufactured.
During my early twenties, Valentine’s Day was a wistful, romantic day and I would often dream of lovely celebrations in the future.
During my late twenties/thirties, when I did the bulk of my real dating/relationship thing, each and every Valentine’s Day was an exercise in “crap, did I go overboard?” vs. “what if he doesn’t give me anything in return?” – basically full of ridiculous stress and angst that frankly, I could have lived without. I think I had one really fabulous Valentine’s dinner, but that was a fluke.
Now, in my late forties, I’m definitely getting into bah-humbug mode again. I see many single women I know trying to ignore the cries of “Oh, how beautiful” and “ooh, pretty flowers” as the various delivery services arrive at the office. I see the married/partnered women anxiously wandering by the lobby, listening for the ping of the elevator, wondering when/if their token of forever!love will arrive. In some cases, it never does. In some, the token is less a token and more of a free prize in every box…or what’s left at the local CVS the morning of because he/she forgot to actually buy something ahead of time.
When did we (the collective female U.S. we) get so damned caught up in this? Why can’t declarations of love, tokens of esteem, small gifts and even silly emails be given all the time? When did our own feelings of self-esteem get tied into whether or not we get a card or flowers or a night out?
I’m really *not* Ms. Grumpi McGrumpypants. Really. Those who’ve met me know that I’m at heart, a hopeful romantic. I *want* people to find their true life/soul/partners-of-the-heart and I believe that this can and will happen to many of us. Hell, I wouldn’t write the types of books I do if I didn’t. I do believe in HEAs* but I don’t think that a once a year demonstration is the key.
It just all seems so forced.
This doesn’t mean that if you feel it, if you revel in the day, not to celebrate, because, after all, it’s *your* choice. And if you get high on the whole idea, well, then go for it!
Me, not so much.
So I think I’ll take today and just celebrate being a woman, in all its glorious complexities and remember the sobering and thoughtful essays over the past two weeks over at 14valentines, reminding us that there’s so much we can do to become aware.
To that end:
Picturing Women
We’ve come a long way, baby
We’ve come even a longer way
(above links courtesy of the Librarian’s Internet Index)
Finally:
Kate Harding on Valentine’s Day and loving yourself
By the way – you all out there – so many of whom I know personally and consider a good friend? – I LOVE YOU ALL!!
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