Please Don’t Make Me Celebrate Valentine’s Day

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There’s no holiday quite as unbearable as Valentine’s Day. This has been my view since childhood, long before I understood that as a parent, I’d be expected to wake early, whip up a love-themed breakfast for my kids, and ensure that all their classmates received special treats and playful messages from “us” as well. Just imagine me, completely unamused.

My disdain for Valentine’s Day started when I was a 10-year-old tomboy with a mullet, completely uninterested in any romantic developments. I glanced at the love notes and chalky heart candies and thought…no thanks. I had no intention of giving a card to the same kids who never asked me to skate with them at the roller rink.

Having a crush eventually return my feelings didn’t change my outlook either. During my senior year of high school, I wore a black armband on Valentine’s Day, despite no one having passed away and even though I had a perfectly nice boyfriend who wasn’t a rebellious spirit like me. Unfortunately, I mistakenly wore a pink polo shirt beneath the armband, making me look like a terrible girlfriend. Regardless, my protest continued.

College didn’t change my feelings, either. One Valentine’s Day, I dissected a shark and gifted my boyfriend its heart preserved in formalin. He kept it in his car until the fluid inevitably spilled in the cup holder. As a marine biologist, my analytical side is useful, but it struggles with overly sentimental notions.

As an adult, Valentine’s Day makes even less sense to me. First off, February is hardly romantic. It’s cold—I don’t want to shed layers. Plus, I’m usually at my least attractive during this time, with pale skin, unshaven legs, and oversized sweatshirts. The pressure for intimacy on this arbitrary day feels immature. Apparently, we’re expected to get cozy just because a cherubic infant in diapers suggested it.

I also can’t get behind the holiday’s cheesy aesthetic. A quick online search reveals the holiday’s more risqué origins—pagan fertility rituals and matchmaking games. It’s hard to believe this evolved into the sugary, Victorian-inspired version of love we know today. Those red hearts and lacey cards remind me of a time when showing an ankle would raise eyebrows.

As a modern woman, I have no use for this nonsense. Your chances of winning me over on Valentine’s Day won’t improve with a teddy bear and some cheap chocolates. We should be normalizing alternative expressions of love. This isn’t elementary school; you won’t impress me with candy. How about a kimchi grilled cheese and a vibrator? Were those sold out?

But what really grinds my gears about Valentine’s Day is the added pressure on mothers. Mid-February isn’t far from Christmas, when I’ve already done a ton of holiday-related activities. I can’t be expected to brighten my family’s lives twice in about 45 days. It’s ironic because I love going above and beyond for things nobody requested. I often whip up elaborate meals for my kids, like homemade bao buns with pork braised in fermented chili paste, but heart-shaped pancakes? Ugh, that sounds exhausting. And I refuse to create treat bags and love notes for every child in their classes. I’ve never done it and I won’t start now. The expectation that childhood must be filled with constant treats and celebrations is already overwhelming.

If a movement starts for crafting Cupid traps, I might just flip a table. It’s perfectly fine if our deep love for our children doesn’t include the “required” mommy projects society imposes on us. A two-hour spaghetti Bolognese on any day other than February 14 is a valentine in its own right.

For more insights, you can check out this blog post.

Erin Smith is a marine biologist and an awful baker. She lives in New Bedford, Massachusetts, with her husband and their two children.

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Summary:

Valentine’s Day is an overrated holiday that places undue pressure on individuals, particularly mothers. The author shares her long-standing disdain for the holiday, reflecting on its cheesy origins and modern implications. Instead of conforming to societal expectations, she advocates for genuine expressions of love that don’t require extravagant gestures.