I hate Valentine's day, I always have. It is not that I'm single or that I don't think we should celebrate love (what ever that means) but I hate that somewhere somebody decided to take advantage of this as a commercial opportunity to guilt people, make them feel bad if they don't feel loved and to sell stuff. Growing up in Denmark in the 80s we did not celebrate any of these types of days, in fact I had never heard about Mother's day, Valentine's day and the like before our social science class teacher told us that these were invented by merchants who wanted to sell more stuff. Living in America now I am obviously overwhelmed by the commercialism of these so-called celebrations which I think are bogus. For one thing I spent my first mother's day in the hospital with a 4-day old baby who wasn't able eat because I wasn't producing any milk and later being yelled at by her dad for ruining the first week of her life (because I couldn't feed her). These are memories I can do without so I couldn't care less about mother's day.
But the day I hate the most is Valentine's day. Because for some reason I'm always heartbroken on that day. I distinctly remember one particular day, 12 years ago: I was checking out groceries (probably chocolate and mochi icecream) from Trader Joe's in California where I was a PhD student at the time and the clerk wished me a happy Valentine's day. I stared at him, probably a bit too vicious because he flinched and apologized, but that greeting was not what I needed. I was terribly in love with another student who I couldn't have because he had a girlfriend. He was also into me but not brave enough to break up with her to be with me. So instead we used every single opportunity to spend time together just the two of us, going to the movies, going for long lunches, hanging out with the other students but making sure we sat together and one of us had to drive the other home. There was so much electricity between us that other people noticed and I was left with the constant feeling that it was just a matter of time. But months passed and nothing happened. Valentine's day was just another rub in face, in which I spent the evening eating said chocolate in front of the television while trying to write on my dissertation. Alone. Nothing ever did happen, the guy stayed with his girlfriend, then we both moved elsewhere. I still know the guy, we see each other regularly at conferences. Not too long ago we had a nice nostalgic talk about back then and he subtly let me know that we could never be in room alone together again because, opposite his girlfriend back then, his wife now was extremely jealous at heart. I'm apparently that dangerous.
For the eight years I was married we had an agreement about skipping Valentine's day completely. We were both made of cynical fabric and he agreed with me about the commercialism making it fraud. It was nice not having to worry about it.
These days I have only one person I really love deeply and who loves me unconditionally. And we don't need any special days to express this or any symbols. Zoe had written me a letter with a drawing for when I picked her up in Copenhagen a couple of weeks ago. "Mommy, this is me giving you my heart". For us, every day we are together is Valentines' day.
But the day I hate the most is Valentine's day. Because for some reason I'm always heartbroken on that day. I distinctly remember one particular day, 12 years ago: I was checking out groceries (probably chocolate and mochi icecream) from Trader Joe's in California where I was a PhD student at the time and the clerk wished me a happy Valentine's day. I stared at him, probably a bit too vicious because he flinched and apologized, but that greeting was not what I needed. I was terribly in love with another student who I couldn't have because he had a girlfriend. He was also into me but not brave enough to break up with her to be with me. So instead we used every single opportunity to spend time together just the two of us, going to the movies, going for long lunches, hanging out with the other students but making sure we sat together and one of us had to drive the other home. There was so much electricity between us that other people noticed and I was left with the constant feeling that it was just a matter of time. But months passed and nothing happened. Valentine's day was just another rub in face, in which I spent the evening eating said chocolate in front of the television while trying to write on my dissertation. Alone. Nothing ever did happen, the guy stayed with his girlfriend, then we both moved elsewhere. I still know the guy, we see each other regularly at conferences. Not too long ago we had a nice nostalgic talk about back then and he subtly let me know that we could never be in room alone together again because, opposite his girlfriend back then, his wife now was extremely jealous at heart. I'm apparently that dangerous.
 |
| Zoe giving me her heart |
These days I have only one person I really love deeply and who loves me unconditionally. And we don't need any special days to express this or any symbols. Zoe had written me a letter with a drawing for when I picked her up in Copenhagen a couple of weeks ago. "Mommy, this is me giving you my heart". For us, every day we are together is Valentines' day.
No comments:
Post a Comment