For The Love of VD

Valentine's Day has always been a kind of love/hate for me.
I love it because the heart is my favorite shape, and I enjoy all of the cheesy love stuff that is mass produced for this holiday. I am comforted by all the romantic, chintzy, love inspired merchandise- it speaks to the romantic in me (I am afterall, the girl who carried around a tattered copy of Cinderella throughout most of my childhood...). I don't however, need to own any of it.

It wasn't until about 6th grade, that I began to hate Valentine's Day. It started with a boy named Adam Bush. Adam had it bad for me- he would write me love letters and I even " went out with him" for a week, caving to the pressure of friends to do so. (I broke up with him at recess in record time, and while I knew he was hurt, I felt nothing but relief!) Our "relationship" had been short lived in October of 1990ish. That following Valentine's Day, I walked into class to find a giant box of chocolates in the shape of the letters " I <3 U" on my desk, along with another love letter stating all of the reasons he liked me and wanted to be with me. I was flattered and totally creeped out. As one who has spent time on the end of unrequited love/like feelings myself, I now have compassion for sweet Adam. He was however, a little overzealous and a bit fanatical for me, and thus I felt Valentine's Day was tainted.

Fast forward about 15 years later, in my most significant and longest relationship to date- I pretended to dislike Valentine's Day, because my boyfriend detested it. We still sort of celebrated it by making our own quirky Valentines for each other, making a romantic meal together and well...yeah you know. It was lovely in its own way, and yet I felt like I was living a lie. I was denying the part of me that craved a little more romance. A little more creativity. I was denying who I was and what I loved. Which if I think about it, kind of sums up a theme for him and I. Ha.

I have a memory of me and an my ex-boyfriend standing in his kitchen, him plating up dinner he made for me and him. I don't remember everything he had cooked that night- probably chicken- but I do remember the broccoli. He had steamed it, and added a little butter. He knew I loved broccoli, and as I watched him put more broccoli on my plate than on his, I remarked " I know you love me, because you know how much I love broccoli and you gave me most of it! Thanks, Baby!" I think I nuzzled him a bit and planted a quick kiss on his cheek... He probably thought I was being silly and girl-ish. I was simply recognizing and connecting to the idea that I knew this man loved me, even if he didn't say it often or declare so with overtly romantic gestures. He understood me, choosing to show me that in his own way.

I do think Valentine's Day is kind of a ridiculous holiday- it's built on a ridiculous amount of pressure and a sad story about a saint. I don't believe that we should only celebrate love on one day of the year or that tokens of affection should be relegated to this day, as proof of undying love and devotion. What I enjoy the most, is that at the heart of it all, it is a day that we stop and recognize the love we have in our lives. Even as a single person- I am able to see all of the places love lives for me. I have such amazing, outstanding people in my life. I know without doubt that I am loved, and that inspires me to love my friends and family back that much more.

Love isn't about a cliche dozen roses, chocolates, or a card with a funny, sizzling message- it's about all of the ways we say "I Love You" without saying the words. Its in our actions, and gestures- however small or large. Its in the intention behind the things we say and do. Its an everyday holiday, that is quietly celebrated without pomp and circumstance. It's in the broccoli. And the tires...

For years I have said to my friends, that I would fall deeply, madly in love with a man who checked the pressure in my tires or surprised me by having my car immaculately detailed. I swoon at the thought of a man so in love with me that he cares enough to make sure I am safe and thinks about the small ways to make my day and show he cares. That is just as romantic to me as a homemade candlelight dinner.

Its more than words, and all about action. Kinda like this...

Oh come on... like you don't know the words. Go on.. get your lighter and belt it out....

Happy VD to you. Get out there and spread your lovin'! <3 xoxoxoxoxo