Valentine’s Day is just around the corner. The whole Hallmark red heart Fannie May dozen red roses buy me something pretty, take me to the Sybaris and do me good mind set that rolls around in mid February has never made any sense to me at all.
I am not a hater. I am not a cry baby. I do not have a jealous bone in my body. I am not a single woman whining and bitching because I have no one to cuddle with when the 14th of February rolls around. Far from it. I just have a hard time with mass marketing a product or a feeling that should be evident and ringing true from one lover to the next every single day of our lives.
Valentine’s Day and what we make of it in this country is a marketer’s dream come true. We make this one day every year a day where we smile and pay for romantic dinners in over crowded and less than spectacular restaurants. We pay 80 bucks for a dozen red roses that would have cost us 30 bucks the week before and 15 the day after. We draw big red hearts around one day on our calendar as the day that we should go all out and profess our love in extra special ways to the one we love. We buy teddy bears and lockets, diamond rings and exotic flowers. We write poetry and buy cards filled with words written by other poets. We spend money on fancy chocolates and champagne to buy time and bubbly kisses with our one and only sweetie baby. We make reservations in unaffordable restaurants and high class hotels where we eat rich foods and model our lacy black girlie things in the hopes of making memories long and sweet enough to hold us until next February….
This thing I have about finding Valentine’s Day a bit of a joke has been with me my whole life. Not even kidding. And it is not about being partnered or on the hunt, in a new relationship or solemnly thinking about leaving an old one. This is not about having a warm body in your bed or a comforting smile and welcoming hand to greet you when you enter a room. This is about the ridiculousness of making one day out of the year the one day we go out of our way and take extra special care to recognize and proclaim our giddy silly love for another. This is about objectifying and marketing love – lust – girl crushes – feelings and stuff. Nothing more and nothing less.
In my silly and opinionated mind I tell it like this…..…..Once upon a time there was a place where secret rendezvous, melting Godiva, rolling in a bed of roses, lacey push up bras, candle lit baths, romantic music and long passionate slow kisses were an everyday deal. No special date on the calendar – no commercials or competition with the couple next door. Showering the one I love with love would just happen – like blinking my eyes – on every random afternoon – simply because the one who stole my heart was walking through that front door and into my arms. Besides – I don’t even own a calendar…..
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About K. Guzman
Kathy grew up all over the US - lots of east coast time. She is a surfer girl with an unabridged curiosity. A woman whose mid life awakening continues to bring her to the place she was meant to be. Her degree in Journalism/Creative Writing from the University of Central Florida is being yanked from the archives and put to good use. Her two kids are grown and rock stars in this wild world – her Harley is ready for some serious summer miles – and her heart remains open to life, women and the possibilities each day brings.