If you are smugly sitting at your desk admiring the giant floral arrangement that your partner has sent you today then this blog is not for you. If you are drenched in expensive perfume that your honey bought for you then this blog is not for you. If you are generously passing around the box of expensive truffles, prefaced with, “They are from my Boo Boo”; this blog is not for you.
This edition is for all of us who have dreaded Valentine’s Day since kindergarten. The days where your mother sent you to school with a handful of Valentines for your class mates and somehow they all ran out before you received one.
A bizarre contest to see who is loved the most. I’m not sure if, with age, I became enlightened enough, to see today as a trap for consumers to spend copious amounts of money or if I decided that it was bullshit because of the those who are single, lonely and excluded.
Either way I do not buy a passage on the Love Boat on this day.
I will admit that there was a time where I wanted a seat on that boat but I was young and insecure. Now I know the only person that really needs to love me is me. I should be sending myself flowers today because I am deserving. I’m suddenly hijacking my own blog. Interesting.
Anyway, why would my partner have to prove he loves me on this particular day with a gift?
We have Christmas for that.
Here is what history says about the beginnings of Valentine’s Day.
“To begin the festival, members of the Luperci, an order of Roman priests, would gather at a sacred cave where the infants Romulus and Remus, the founders of Rome, were believed to have been cared for by a she-wolf or lupa. The priests would sacrifice a goat, for fertility, and a dog, for purification. They would then strip the goat’s hide into strips, dip them into the sacrificial blood and take to the streets, gently slapping both women and crop fields with the goat hide. Far from being fearful, Roman women welcomed the touch of the hides because it was believed to make them more fertile in the coming year. Later in the day, according to legend, all the young women in the city would place their names in a big urn. The city’s bachelors would each choose a name and become paired for the year with his chosen woman. These matches often ended in marriage.” The History Channel.
Can’t get more romantic than that. Well, at least things have changed over the last thousand years or so. I guess I would prefer flowers and a card to a skinned goat hide.
I don’t want to sound too preachy or self-affirming here but I just don’t want any man or woman to feel crappy today because they are not getting a Valentine.
One year I actually made my partner feel guilty for not buying into this tradition. I saw other women in my circle receiving jewellery and gifts and I admit that I was feeling jealous of the attention they were getting. I’ve got to be honest, it was not my best reflection.
The following year, while he was on the road, he called me on Valentine’s Day and asked me to look in my “Donnie and Marie” album carrying case, where he had stashed a card and a bag of cinnamon hearts. I was stunned and felt weirdly guilty. I immediately ripped open that bag of hearts and bit into one… cracking a root canal tooth in half.
After an emergency dental trip, where I lost that tooth completely, it stands as a hilarious reminder to me that I don’t need a symbol of love in my life…and Valentine’s Day is dangerous…. there was a massacre you know.
If I want something for myself then I buy it and it makes things so much less stressful.
And it’s always been too much pressure on the designated “giver” and “receiver”.
So, hold your head high on this day of hearts and flowers and know that you are loved no matter what.
It’s also cheaper to go out and buy yourself flowers and chocolates tomorrow!
And for those of you that love to express your love with hearts and flowers today then Happy Valentines Day. I’m giving my Alaskan Malamute steak and my parrot some cashews so I guess I am celebrating my love and appreciation to my furry and feathered family.