This semester, I’m taking a course required by my university’s curriculum called What’s Love Got to Do With It? At UF, this class is highly sought after, with students of all ages vying for a spot in discussions about relationships, sex, and, of course, love. During our last class, we gathered around, feeling the tinge of love in the air as we asked the hard-hitting questions: So, who has a Valentine this year?
As a happily single human, I know what’s expected of me on this day. I’m supposed to mourn the loss of something I never had, to somehow feel excluded by the displays of affection around me. It makes sense that some describe Valentine’s Day as “just another day“, or go so far as to say that “Gal-entines and Pal-entines are just made-up concepts for disgruntled single people”. Sure, without a date, it might be just another day. But in many ways, it’s not.
Tomorrow, I’ll wake up to see strangers handing out free flowers on the street. I’ll see girls wearing cute pink and red outfits to class, boys frantically running with flowers and chocolates in hand, rushing to prepare their surprise on time. And, because of all this, I’ll have another reason to smile.
Valentine’s Day is another opportunity to remind the people I love how important they are to me and call friends I haven’t spoken to in a while because life gets busy. More than anything, it’s a day to recognize just how much love already exists in the world. While I haven’t found a person to call the one, I have found the ability to recognize how I lucky I am to have so many. I trust the right relationship will come when it’s meant to, but for now, I’m excited to spend another Valentine’s Day in a way that fills my heart with love and encourages me to spread that love to others.
For now, I look around and ask: Will you be my Valentine? Not in the capital-L Love sense, but as part of the network of people I wake up excited to see and spend time with. My roommates are my Valentines—we have candlelit dinners on the couch, watching cartoons. My best friends are my Valentines—we study in coffee shops and paint pottery on weekends. My family members are my Valentines—I hug them as tightly as I can each time I leave for school. And if all else fails, I can always be my own Valentine—by being liberal with the love I give to myself and others.
On a day as special as February 14th, everyone deserves to feel loved. Tell your friends and family you love them. But also smile at a stranger across the sidewalk or write a kind note on your receipt for your waiter. The world could always use more of your warmth.
To wrap this up with a bow, I want to speak directly to you. As a reader of Chocolate and Politics, I love you. I love that you return to my words, that you find value in what I have to say. You are special and worthy of love. And in case no one has told you today—someone out there is thinking of you and how much better their life is because you’re in it.
There are countless people I think about often but appreciate out loud too rarely. It’s not always easy to be emotionally vulnerable. But now is the time. Today is the day to stop and smell the roses. So smell them. Carry them with you. And maybe even give one away—because sometimes it’s better to be the undercover Valentine that makes someone’s day.
Happy Loving
“Love isn’t love till you give it away” -Oscar Hammerstein
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