Happy Valentines Day to Me, Your Single Friend.

February 13, 2024

Two years ago, I had a a concrete Valentine (a boyfriend) for Valentines Day; this past year, I sort of had a Valentine (?), like yes I did but it is a very complicated situation and one of which I will not discuss on the internet for all to see; and this year, I have no Valentine. Judging by this statistical trend, next Valentines day, I might be dead, since that is the most logical next step after being alone on the day of love and relationships. 

I used to unapologetically love Valentines Day. Regardless of if I had a Valentine or not. I love hearts and I love pink and red and I love love. I love telling my friends I love them and I love talking about love and thinking about love and love being loved and love loving. But, thinking back to it, maybe it’s because, in some way or another, I have always had a Valentine. Since it mattered in life, I guess there has always been someone to wish me “Happy Valentines Day” in at least some form of romantic tone. The last time I didn’t have that, I was way too young to care. So maybe I am a liar and maybe I just love being loved and not just love in general. Because I am not feeling so dandy and happy this Valentines Day when I have no one to tell me, “Happy Valentines Day.”

I know that Valentines Day is such a corporate-money-grab of a holiday, but honestly who cares. It is a sweet gesture to celebrate your love for someone a little extra one day a year. A day where it is completely acceptable to consume large amounts of chocolate and have copious amounts of sex in the sluttiest red lingerie on the market (neither of which I have actually done, I think about now). There is something magical about announcing to the world how much you love something. It’s just a little more magical when someone is doing this for me, though. But whatever. Let’s talk about Valentines Day as a whole, and why we love and hate it so damn much.

Looking back to the origins of Valentines Day (yes, I actually did research for this piece instead of just spewing my personal thoughts for a million characters), its true beginnings stem from the Roman holiday of Lupercalia, a festival held to celebrate the fertility of the coming spring and to pawn off young women to their suitors for the coming year. This isn’t the common story we are told, although it adheres more to the way we celebrate the holiday than the more common story of St. Valentine. In reality, the story we have all been told — that the holiday is a celebration of St. Valentine, the patron saint of love — is less about love than we may think. The common conception about the holiday’s origins is a mix of many different accounts of Valentines’s story. One tells that Valentine secretly married couples to spare the husbands from being drafted to war. Another says that Valentine was actually the name of a few priests who were killed for helping Christians escape from Roman prisons. The most popular account of the story tells that the priest Valentine befriended the daughter of the man who imprisoned him before his execution. To her, he wrote a note before his death, signed, “from your Valentine.” I know that some legends say he was in love with her, but if the man is willing to die for his religion, he is probably not going to spend his last minutes on earth breaking whatever vow priests make to not fancy women in that way. If you decide to look at the story in this light, it seems that Valentines Day originated out of a love for friendship. Something it most definitely does not reflect in this day and age.

I’ve always stated that celebrating Valentines Day with your friends is all you need — that you don’t actually need a significant other to love the holiday. And if thats how it started out in the first place, one’s love and appreciation for the friends and people they hold dear, how did we stray so far away from that message over time? Now look, I know I am not alone in my age group for not having a Valentine, but there is something so numbing about being young and having no one to celebrate the day of love with. Especially when all your close friends have Valentines. I am not exaggerating here. Like, all my close friends have significant others. Don’t get me wrong, I am super happy for them. All of them are truly the best and most wonderful people on the planet. And they deserve love not only this Valentines Day, but for everyday and all eternity.

But I am also slightly jealous. Which is okay, because jealousy is a super normal emotion and doesn’t always stem from hatred like people think it does (it often stems from longing, something this holiday seems to be all about at its core). It’s silly, but at least when you have another single friend you guys can truly be each others’ Valentines. When all your friends have boyfriends, you kinda get thrown the pity bone (not intentionally, I might add — its usually out of good faith) of, “Sure, you can be my Valentine too!” Which, of course, you appreciate the effort and the kindness they show you, but it doesn’t really make you feel better. It also probably will never make you feel better when you undoubtably get kicked out of your room for your roommate to enjoy Valentines Day while you sit in your living room trying not to think about the fact that sex acts are being performed right next to where you sleep at night (the joys of being young and sharing a room).

Look, I am all for loving yourself, let’s preface this. But the notion that you don’t need a significant other and you should focus on loving yourself this Valentines Day is absolute bullshit. No one has ever been made to feel better by being told that they should stop being so shallow and focusing on frivolous things (like a genuine human connection with someone you value) and focus on yourself instead (because you obviously need it). 

So how should I endure Valentines Day this year? Should I completely ignore it? Should I choose to enjoy it regardless of being alone? What am I going to do? Watch the movie Valentines Day and hate that Patrick Dempsey is cheating on his wife and also hate the fact that Bradley Cooper’s character is gay because I want to marry him so badly? Simultaneously eat chocolate alone? Wear the new heart thong I got from Skims under my pajama pants to feel at least a little festive? Sit and think about all the possible relationships I screwed up as of recently? (Four, to be exact).

Whatever I end up doing, I am not sure how I am going to feel until the day in question. I probably won’t feel great, if I am being honest with myself. I’ll probably throw myself a tiny silent pity party, and hope that no one else throws one for me. But I’ll still tell my friends how much I love them. I’ll still have my heart swell with the Valentines Day card my mom sends me every year. I’ll probably smile to myself when I see a man hurriedly walking down the street gripping a bouquet of flowers. I’ll probably still try and wear something red or pink to work that day. Because just as much as the notion that I am not, in a romantic way, loved, boils my blood, the knowledge that the world can stop for one single day and appreciate the love they have around them will always bring me peace.