I’m No Fan of Valentine’s Day

I’m No Fan of Valentine’s Day February 11, 2016

candle redMy earliest memory of Valentine’s Day is from kindergarten. The teacher had us make “mailboxes” from construction paper – open ended envelopes with a repositionable flag to indicate mail had been delivered. When I asked what it was for, she said “February 14 is Valentine’s Day – if somebody likes you, they’ll put a valentine in your mailbox.”

That sounded like fun. I was going to get mail all my own (as opposed to the real mail which never had anything for me) and I could find out who liked me. And I could send valentines to the people I liked. But then the teacher said “remember – you need to bring a valentine for everyone.”

I clearly remember my confusion at this point. “But what about the people I don’t like?” I don’t remember if I actually asked the question. I probably didn’t – even at that young age, I had learned that adults didn’t respond well to questions that challenged their ideas about the way things were supposed to be.

I got even more confused when I realized that everyone would be bringing a valentine for me. How was I supposed to know who really wanted to Be My Valentine and who was just doing what they were told to do? I examined each valentine carefully, looking for clues as to the real sentiment behind them. As I recall, I didn’t find anything, either forensically or psychically (I was looking for magic at a very early age, but that’s another story for another time). The whole thing was a nice diversion, but it was no big deal.

Fast forward to junior high school and the first Valentine’s Dance. Which I didn’t attend, because I didn’t have a valentine in any sense of the term. I was a stereotypical brainy nerd with high social anxiety and low social skills. There was something cool going on, but I didn’t get to participate.

My senior year in high school I finally had a girlfriend and I looked forward to going to the Valentine’s Dance for the first time. I had been to at least one other school dance so I knew what was involved, but I still had the idea that the Valentine’s Dance would be special – magical, even. But no, it was the same collection of kids trying to dress up and look sophisticated, a few dancing well and most dancing poorly, and it did nothing to enhance the love and affection I felt for my girlfriend (such as it was – that was an awkward relationship that lasted too long and ended poorly – but that’s a typical story that’s not worth writing about).

None of this compares to the sheer misery I felt during the two years after college when I was single. My co-workers were talking about their big Valentine’s plans and I was reminded that I wasn’t participating.

As these stories show, I’ve never been particularly fond of Valentine’s Day. Though I’ve had some good experiences during the years Cathy and I have been together, my strongest Valentine’s memories are of disappointment and exclusion.

I think there’s value in a day to celebrate romantic love and relationships. It’s tempting to say “celebrate your love every day” and some people can do that. Most of us, though, get busy with our routines of work, school, family, and household. If we’re wise we include spiritual practice, physical exercise, and religious community. Of course we love our partners and we show that love in the ordinary things we do to support them, but it’s all too easy to forget there’s something more involved – particularly for those of us for whom romance doesn’t come easily. Just as we have special days to remind us of our devotion to the Gods and the Earth, it’s good to have a special day to remind us of our devotion to our partners and to give us a prompt to express that devotion in a tangible fashion.

Our current Valentine’s Day does a very poor job of that. I’m not going to blame the commercialization, although that certainly doesn’t help. But like advertisements, Valentine’s Day sets a standard for what a romantic celebration should be that’s unhelpful for most and impossible for some. Our culture insists we should all be partnered. We’re finally to the point where most folks realize some people want and need to be partnered with someone of the same sex, but we still ignore those who prefer to be single and those who prefer to be in multi-partner or open relationships.

Even when our Valentine’s Day activities and imagery become more inclusive, they still scream taunts and insults at those who want romance but can’t find it, for whatever reason. It’s like when I’m planning a Beltane ritual and want to emphasize the lusty aspects of the holiday, but then remember that even if I’m able to do it in a way that doesn’t presume cis-hetero normality, there will still be at least a few people whose only outlet for their lusts will be themselves. And while that outlet can certainly be a good thing, it’s not when you really want to celebrate with someone else.

I hate blog posts that complain about the way things are and then don’t offer a better alternative, but I don’t have a better alternative to offer. I certainly don’t want to take Valentine’s Day away from those who enjoy it. And I don’t want to go back to kindergarten where everybody gets a valentine even if they’re meaningless. But I really wish we had a better way to celebrate our romantic relationships.

This Valentine’s Day I’ll be alone, or as alone as anyone can be when you’re in a hotel with 2500 other Pagans. I’ll be at Pantheacon, while Cathy – who comes to some of our CUUPS circles but who has no interest in large gatherings – will be home. That we’re both OK with this is one of the reasons we’ve been married for 28 years. We’ll pay our homage to St. Valentine next weekend. It’s expected, and if you’re in a good relationship it can be fun.

But I still wish we had something better.

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