Not Another Valentine’s Day Rant

With Valentine’s Day right around the corner, love is in the air—and I refuse to inhale and catch the second-hand high.  In fact, I’m going to let this post serve as my literary “gas mask” with the intent of deflecting the prevailing, albeit cheap, Hallmark-endorsed sentiments of romantic dinners, flowers, and boxes of chocolates, which somehow articulate undying love.  Contrary to popular belief, all these superficial gestures do is contribute to my undying battle to avoid going up a pant-size.

I’m sure some of you are probably rolling your eyes by now:  “Christ, here’s another Bitter Betty who’ll stay at home on ‘Singles’ Awareness Day’, drown her single-girl sorrows with a bottle of Pinot, and play 500 Days of Summer and The Breakup into the wee hours of the night.”  Slow your roll, pal.  My beef with February 14^th has nothing to do with my relationship status, and everything to do with the fact that we’re selling ourselves short, thanks in large part to media-propagated ideals of what constitutes a “happily ever after”.  Granted, this notion is projected all three hundred and sixty-five days of the year, but what better time to examine it than nine days before the year’s biggest scam known to consumers—I mean, Valentine’s Day?

As a disclaimer, I’m not slamming the ladies and gents who are gearing up for a night of fun activities next week.  I would like to point out the reasons why this holiday mirrors some repercussions that make me uncomfortable, though.  First and foremost, I resent the way society morphs intimate relationships, particularly the woman’s role, from TV shows, to movies, to those stupid “He went to Jared!” commercials.  They all seem to revolve around material possessions.  While I’d like to assume that most ladies are going to put more stock in their relationship than what they unwrap on commercialized holidays, we have been conditioned to make the association, at least to some extent, between what (and how much) we get, and how much we’re loved.

I recently had a conversation with one of my female friends, which consisted of a fifteen-minute soliloquy of all the things her boyfriend bought her in preparation for Valentine’s Day.  The long-awaited dismount was short, and cringe-worthy:  “I just love him!  I can’t even begin to explain it.”…What?  You just sat there and gave me a laundry list of the shit he bought you, and the places he took you for dinner.  And recalling these gestures prompted a testament to how special he is, and how much you love him?

Perhaps the idea is better illustrated in an example of what when happened when another gal pal wasn’t getting wined and dined.  She was concerned that her boyfriend didn’t like her, because even though they have a great connection, similar interests, and great stimulating conversations, he doesn’t “show” his affection materially the way her other boyfriends had.  So basically, he’s perfect, save for the fact he doesn’t stand outside her window with a boom box held over his head, blasting an 80’s love song, with a single, long-stemmed red rose in his mouth.

At first glance, you may be inclined to scoff at these examples.  Think honestly to yourself, though, can you blame them?  I don’t.  They’re inundated with the idea that if a guy likes you, he’ll do something for you, or buy something for you.  But why are they so quick to overlook the time he invests, and instead focus on the money he invests?  More principally, why does this matter so much?

The way women’s roles are depicted in intimate relationships make us feel like we’re missing something if we’re not being doted on, hand and foot, every second of the day.  It’s not exactly an empowering role—it’s one of waiting by the wayside in hopes that the guy will come around.  Innocently enough, we’re enabling this notion as okay when we wait around for a guy to express his affection, especially with a “thing”.  Even worse is when we think that these tokens of affection are what constitute true love.

Ladies, here’s the skinny:  this battle is up to us to fight.  I’m not assuming the role of the relationship anti-Christ, but as a fellow woman, I’m calling us out.  Let’s stop setting benchmarks for the perfect “romance”, with progress indicated by red roses and teddy bears.  It won’t last, and its fulfillment will be, at best, short-lived.  Instead, this Valentine’s Day, show a little love—for yourself, and for your significant other (if applicable).  It’s not about the exchange of gifts or the fancy dinners.  It’s about time spent.  Stop stressing out about material possessions, and what someone else can provide you with to make you feel better about yourself.  And remember to always dress yourself in a little self-love and empowerment—it’s the best investment you can make.