I was in Target two days after Christmas and saw that they had the Valentine’s Day cards on full-frontal display already. That was fast! I thought. It wasn’t until about ten minutes later that I realized, for the first time in years, I did not feel assaulted by the Valentine’s Day display case. I was tempted to jump up and down but managed to control the urge. I did an instant replay in my mind: I walked by the cards without a passing thought other than They got them out quickly. In other words, the cards weren’t whispering to me You’re useless and unwanted as they have done so many times before.
It was an extraordinary personal achievement, and it’s a place I’ve been trying to arrive at for a while. I’ve had a boyfriend—or a date—on Valentine’s Day maybe five times in my life, and not in the past few years. I have had romantic situations come to their end just before Valentine’s Day, which makes it that much more painful.
Years ago I learned to appreciate the love—any type of love—that is shared on V-Day, and I’ve had some amazing Valentine’s Days spent with friends. I’ve just never been able to fully overcome the uncomfortable moment between me and the Hallmark display case. It sits there in all its red and pink glory reminding me that I don’t have anyone to buy a romantic card for.
Until this year! Booyah! Take THAT display case! I realized once and for all that whatever the display case was saying to me was in my head, and the voice has left the head.
One of my most memorable V-Day’s was 2007. My mom and I took a train to D.C. for my first radio show. At the end of the day, I received the most wonderful voice message I have ever received—it was my agent telling me what a great job I did.
Yesterday was a relatively tame V-Day, but I did receive some amusing gifts. From my sister, SpongeBob stickers and chocolate-covered pretzels:
From Masa in Louisiana, a unique and thoughtful rose petal and pistachio chocolate bar.