BY: JASON RAYNER
At the time of posting, it’s Valentine’s Day. When I realized that Valentine’s Day happened to fall on a Thursday, I instantly thought I would be able to post a witty rant on how I feel about this day. It’s in that special echelon of holidays - like Mothers and Fathers Day - holidays that have no actual heft; there are no days off for them, and the only historical method of celebration comes from buying things for people.
Look at me feeling that Valentine’s Day magic.
Okay. So there is actually a historical significance behind Valentine’s Day. Kind of. Take a look here. It’s dark and muddled, and honestly, kind of a hot heteronormative mess. So with that, I think we can all agree that in 2019, we think about Valentine’s as a commercial holiday where those in love feel pressured to buy cards and annoying stuffed animals that play Uptown Funk when you press their stomachs. It’s also a day where single people are excluded for being on their own, so they buy themselves big bottles of wine and buy themselves a box of chocolates they don’t even really want.
If you read this blog, or better yet, are an actual friend of mine, you know that I am chronically single. There are a million reasons why (many which, I will one day explore, maybe after I finish binging the new season of One Day At A Time), and as a result I have spent most Valentine’s Day single. And by most, I mean all but one.
I vividly remember the one Valentine’s Day I had with a boyfriend. It was at the point of our relationship where you transition from seeing each other on a date to date basis, to comfortably making plans for the future. We had assumed Saturday night date nights, and were beginning to create our own little routines. We were also just awkward enough, that even though Valentine’s Day fell on our assumed Saturday night date night, we still hesitated to make any solid plans. Instead we just continued to see each other and talk about everything except for Valentine’s Day.
In fact, it wasn’t until approximately three days before, when we were out to dinner, staring into each other’s eyes obnoxiously that our server accidentally put us on the spot. After initially misidentifying us by saying how obvious it was that we were “really good friends” (#gaydating) and then apologizing immediately after seeing us hold hands across the table (especially obnoxious), he asked us what we were doing for Valentine’s Day. It was a simple and harmless question that sent us into a stuttering tailspin. Realizing he had screwed up again, our server smiled and politely bolted away as soon as he could (I think of this man often, and hope we made it into his hall of fame of embarrassing server stories).
Faced to finally confront it, we made plans that were not that different from our regular Saturday night. The result was spending a day stressing out about what was the perfect balance between too much and not enough. I was afraid a gift would be too much. He showed up with a small gift. Every time something mildly romantic happened I was worried that it was too much and would pull away or try to carefully choose my language to make sure I didn’t sound like I took the day too seriously. The whole night felt put on. By the end I was so exhausted from the performance, we didn’t even have sex, which is actually kind of mean on my part considering that he sat through Liz & Dick, the Lifetime masterpiece starring Lindsay Lohan as Elizabeth Taylor as a way to impress me.
So even when I was finally sharing the supposed magic of Valentine’s Day with a significant other, I hated it. I saw our future Valentine’s Days together - instead of feeling more comfortable expressing ourselves, I saw more performance, grander gestures, and those stupid stuffed animals.
Aside from that one Valentine’s Day, I’ve spent all others single (including this year). I’ve had the Valentine’s Day where I’ve been heartbroken, still reeling from a January break-up and drank way too much wine to cover my feelings that being single is a disease that needs to be treated ASAP. I’ve had the Valentine’s Day where I’ve proudly proclaimed “I Don’t Need a Man” (great Pussycat Dolls song, by the way), and drank way too much wine with my other single friends. I’ve had the Valentine’s Day where I low key acted like I didn’t care and had a solo night, curled up with a face mask, a romantic comedy, and drank way too much wine.
For the record, the Valentine’s Day with other single friends and drinking too much wine is by far the most fun option.
From all of my past experiences I can only conclude one thing. Valentine’s Day is a ridiculous day that only causes people to feel a whole lot of pressure, regardless of their relationship status. The worst part of it, is that even as I say this with such conviction, it still holds relevance to me. I wish I could say that I didn’t care and I could go on with my February and pretend that it doesn’t exist. But it does. So at this point, all I can do is have fun with it. And drink way too much wine, regardless of my relationship status. And hope that in the next 365 days I finally cross paths with Lucas Hedges.