As another February rolls around, we as women, have various reactions to the idea of Valentine’s Day.
Yes, yes I know that it is a Hallmark holiday intent on breeding frantic consumerism and singledom hate. I have been on both sides of the situation during this holiday, from very happily in a committed relationship to being absolutely single and not even remotely mingling.
The problem with V-Day is that it skews our perceptions of what love really means and hypes it up as if being part of a couple is the only important aspect of life. If single, you may experience a twinge of loneliness, but more than anything, annoyance creeps up on you early in February and culminates in a whirlwind of heart candies and pink in a volume that is nearly unbearable.
This is what my single Valentines looked like a couple years ago — a true look at what it means to go through this trying holiday solo:
9 am: I awoke to some horrid commercial about how “Every Kiss Begins With K,” which was not ideal because kissing my cat on the forehead was the most action I’d had in four months.
10 am: From under seven blankets, contemplations of pouring OJ vodkas began.
12 pm: My Instagram feed was chock full of flowers, boyfriends and romantic dates. Cool.
12:30 pm: Walking around town didn’t make things better — stupid couples with their stupid smiles and stupid kisses pranced through the streets like a goddamned parade of love-struck lunatics. “This has to be anti-feminist in some way,” I thought to myself as I sucked down a double shot.
1 pm: School isn’t any better — some sorry slob got engaged the night before and was squealing through the building, all doe-eyed, preening around with her hand permanently strewn out in front of her. I then Googled divorce rates in the state — damn, they were high.
2pm: Lunch was a Cliff bar from the vending machine and a side of general bitterness. And, I really hate the cupid decorations — what is sexy about a diapered baby?
2:30pm: A friend tried to set me up with her cousin Larry in Ohio, who is studying to be a CPA. I gracefully declined.
3:00 pm: Another friend told me that she paid $200 for her boyfriend’s Valentine’s Day gift. I started to feel like a frugal, single superwoman.
5:00 pm: Reading and writing at home isn’t so bad — I enjoyed my own company.
By the time 8 pm rolled around, I gave up on going out, flopped on the couch with a bottle of pinot, some takeout food and “Friends” reruns.
…I guess I’ve had worse days.
Via Elite Daily
