Tuesday, February 13, 2018


I have been digging around in my brain endeavoring to figure out why I still dislike Valentine's Day  after all these years, even though I'm happily married to a wonderful man. I'm guessing the origins lay dormant in my  high school years, where many other wretched programs in my brain have their roots.

For this one in particular, I'm thinking that it's Robert's fault. Yup. Robert. He was a couple years older than me, and exactly my type of guy. A loner. An outcast. Angular face with a light sprinkling of freckles to match his fiery red, spiky hair.  Let's see.......Writes dark, tortured soul poetry in his beat up notebooks. Check. Strange sense of fashion that included making necklaces out of electrical spare parts. Double-check. Safety pins holding together all of the purposeful rips in his jeans. Man. This guy didn't even have to TRY with me.

Anyhow, I somehow managed to make it known that I wanted to be the subject of some of his anguished poetry, and we "dated"  (in high school, it meant that I wrote him notes, agonized over him, and wrote his last name after my first name over and over again in fine cursive.) for maybe about 6 weeks, until he broke up with me around Valentine's Day.

He broke up with me because of my religion. Nice to know that religious persecution is still alive and well, eh? 

Anyhooo, it's a funny thing. So, I have let this awkward, flailing, kid have all of this dominion over my life for years. Every time Valetine's Day would roll around, I would roll my eyes and plainly express my disdain as I reveled in my non-conformity.  "Oh, puh-lease. This day is ridiculous. Putting red and pink together. Stupid hearts. Stupid bears. Stupid love."

And here I am at adulthood, and I've realized a few disheartening (hah! get the pun?) facts.
-Every girl, and I do mean EVERY GIRL, has a huge list of dramatic tales about how guys have betrayed them, slashed their hearts, said the exact wrong things, and forced them to feel like crap about themselves!  We have gotten onto this subject at work, and all of the gals who work for me have seemingly never-ending tales of woe.  Essentially, we've all been hurt. Join the club.

-Similarly, every single person I know has some cement reason for being annoyed with Valentine's Day. This also, doesn't make me special when I get annoyed with it.

Honestly...friends......I am done with sounding like a victim. That is no longer a story that I want to tell about my life. Some equally insecure teenager may have "broken my heart", but I am the one who has chosen to bring that story up repeatedly for years and years and relive the heartache. Sadly, I've "broken" my own heart by playing that scenario over and over again WAY MORE than the one single time that some guy did the original heart-breaking.  (You can learn to do a really helpful dialogue about this! There is a worksheet, and you can learn about it by reading Byron Katie's "Loving What Is". I will never stop pushing this book, because it's one of the most profound things I have ever used in my life!)

There's also the problem with perspective. You see, there are two sides to every story about a relationship. There are two narratives running, and each person thinks their story is reality. Who the heck is right? haha, you obviously? That's what I thought.

I have a wonderful, blessed life, here in my current space. I am so grateful that I had all of the relationships that I had through my life. They all taught me and shaped me, and I am better for it.  I love that there is yet another commercialized, bastardized holiday that has its own decorations, traditions, and emotions. I love that they put red and pink together. Thank you, Valentine's Day.


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