How I killed Valentine’s Day and how it Got Resurrected!

(First published on my RJM Facebook page a couple of years ago)

A week before Valentine’s Day, my mother came to me to make plans with me for the day. Weird, you say? Yeah, I say it too. I don’t know when this started, but it’s been happening for some time now, and it continues to be…

I killed that sucker and danced on its grave happily. It felt good; I even got out a few thousand words of my new romance novel in the process…

weird. I am a full-blooded grown woman, but for most of my life, I have been single. I am not an anomaly, I am not a national treasure. The list of single women in this world should be classified as an epidemic at this point. And I am not talking about single as in, has a fudge-buddy, a friends with benefits situation, or a casual free intercourse lifestyle. I’m talking about being single and purposefully waiting for the other imperfect person that aligns with your values, beliefs, and overall harmony of mind, body, soul, and spirit. And no, this person is not a dream. Many have met their person and are living happy existences right here on Earth. But anyway- that’s the single I’m talking about- the singleness of living your fullest, happiest life without putting substitutes in the mix just so you can feel a part of something. And that’s the singleness that I say has become an epidemic because so many women have opted to live a purposeful, happy life in singleness instead of having a partner just to have one.

So for me, Valentine’s Day has never been a thing. And come to think of it, even when I was younger and had boyfriends, it was never a thing. I never really took to it as a big deal, the way it seems to be in our society. And now that I am single, I feel I definitely don’t need to be involved in it. I’ve always felt it was a day for lovers; in whatever group or title they fall under, I feel it’s a day for lovers. But because we live in an inclusive world, it's now been deemed a day of love, where friends can be each other’s Valentine and sons can show their mothers love with flowers (which is sweet by the way). But for me, I still look at it as a day for lovers. I just do. And I feel that because I don’t have a lover, I don’t need to take part. This one doesn’t include me, and that’s okay because not everything is for everyone. I’m the one black girl in the back saying, “No, we don’t need that black friend on the Friends sitcom, and 'No, we don’t need a black or female James Bond”. Everything is not for everyone, and that’s okay.

Listen- I’m a romance writer for God's sake- I live this stuff in my head every day. I love, love. I love to see couples on Valentine's Day buying those awful oversized stuffed animals for each other and wondering where the hell they are going to keep that thing after today. I love seeing the aisles at the stores full of heart-shaped chocolate boxes and balloons waving in the air. Or drive past the guys who have laid out tables and tables of teddy bears and flowers on the side of the road for all those last-minute passers-by. I love it all. I love looking at couples holding hands and enjoying each other. But what I’m not going to do is pretend that this day is for me. Or that this day is for friendship and platonic love. We can try but the proof is in the pudding and if I’m not getting felt up, loved up, caressed up, looking in the eyes of, feeding each other desert and finishing it off with a sweet but powerful orgasm with my significant other- then I can simple go out to dinner and get chocolate from a friend or a parent on February never, or August first or December second.

I don’t need to feel included in something that simply isn’t for me on this day. I actually enjoy sitting on the sidelines and cheering for those who get to play. Which is what I do each year, happily. 

Don’t get me wrong, if there is a great guy or guys (wink, wink) that are interested in me and on Valentine’s Day and choose to send me flowers or take me out to dinner or anything of that nature- then bring it on- I’m game. But for a girlfriend, a mom, a dad, a sister, or anything of the sort to try to include you, who are single, into Valentine's Day, just because- I find it weird and a little pathetic. I know, I know, some of you feel I’m being weird about it. But I don’t care- I feel how I feel, and that sh@!t is weird as hell. So, back to a week before Valentine's Day, my mother approaches me, as in times past, about what “my father wants to do with me for Valentine’s Day”. Like what, Lady!

So, all the years before when it first started, because I didn’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings or be ungrateful at my father’s kindness- I would take the roses and the box of chocolate, the gift of perfume, go out to the “family” dinner, or go over to the house for the meal that was prepared. And it was weird as sh@!t then too, but I just went along to get along. And I classify myself as a self-aware person- I think- sometimes (HaHa). And as a self-aware person, I thought, a lot of people don’t have families who love and care for them, so I need to be appreciative of the thoughtfulness of my family.

Okay, so yeah! I was self-aware for a minute- and now I’m not. Because this year, when my mother approached me, I was ready. “Mom, thank you and Dad for thinking of me. I appreciate you. But no. I will not be going to dinner for Valentine's, and no, I do not want a gift, a flower, a chocolate, or a meal cooked at the house. I am too old for all that. I do not celebrate Valentine’s Day with anyone who is not my significant other. I choose to skip this holiday because it is not for me, and that’s okay. Okay.” Calm down, I said it politely. But I was very serious, and although I could see the dissatisfaction on her face, she took it like the champ she is. So, you’re probably saying, “Booo to your ungrateful daughtership” or something to that effect. And I would say "Boooo to anyone who allows themselves to feel uncomfortable for the sake of another person on Valentine’s Day.”

I actually do believe that fathers should give their young daughters flowers and make them feel special, showing them how they should be treated by the men they will attract to them in the future. But there is a window for that- an age window. And once that window closes, what the heck is my father and mother doing but making me feel uncomfortable? Well, I put my foot down this year, and it felt great! And I told all my friends, “Don’t come at me with that bull swanky of going out for Valentine’s Day or giving me no chocolate- cause Imma cuss you heffa’s out.” And with that, Valentine’s Day for me was laid to rest; the time of death a week before Cupid shoots his arrow.

I killed that sucker and danced on its grave happily. It felt good; I even got out a few thousand words of my new romance novel in the process…  

Soooo, you know how I killed Valentine's Day and danced on its grave happily? Well… It sort of resurrected. I know- I feel the same way- I underestimated the power of Valentine’s Day. Son of a rat's ass! There I was on Valentine’s Day, minding my business, writing a wonderful romantic, erotic novel, while sipping on… let's just go with water. When I get a phone call from a friend. This particular friend, I had not seen or heard from in a while, and so it did not dawn on me to alert this young lady of my endeavors to kill Valentine's Day. And thus, through her, Valentine's Day arose again.

She calls to tell me- me- me of all people, “Happy Valentine's Day!” and then proceeds to say, “I’m dropping something for you at the house, if you’re not home, I’ll just leave it by the door.” I was both shocked and appalled at this underhanded turn of events. All I could say was “Thank you” with a happy bantering laugh as I cringed in despair. Okay, it wasn’t that dramatic, but I'm a writer (insert shrug here).

Sure enough, my friend left me a Valentine’s gift bag of goodies and candles galore. And you know what I did? I laughed and laughed and laughed some more, at the irony and the great lesson that my God taught me on this Valentine's Day. The lesson is... I cannot control life; I can only control how I react to life. I can only control my own actions and emotions, but I cannot control the actions and emotions of others, even when I think I can. So, when I called my friend to say thank you, I genuinely felt grateful and thankful for her remembering me (even though, LOL, I didn’t want to be remembered). I laughed, looking up to God because once again, he showed me, “you’re not the boss of this”. And I surrendered to the love of a God who never forgets me, even when I think I need to be forgotten. Happy, Happy Valentine's Day!!!!!!!!!