As a single woman, I have a deep loathing for St Valentine’s Day. I prefer to think of it as my late Uncle Ronnie’s birthday and then treat it as any other normal day.
Remember back in elementary school, when we had to give a Valentine’s Day card to every other kid in the class, whether you liked them (as a person) or not? I’m pretty sure that 6th grade was the last time I received a Valentine’s Day card. It shouldn’t matter, since it’s a Hallmark holiday and not really celebrating anything except to divide those who have someone in their life with the rest of us.
I’ve been told that I’m pretty, I’ve been told that I’m smart, I’ve been told that I’m kind and thoughtful and fun to be around, and then I get stuffed into what is so commonly known as “the friendzone.” I’m not dating material. I have more medical problems than some nursing homes. I prefer the company of my cat to that of most people. My ideal “night out” is being at home with a good book these days, since I can’t actually go out and do anything right now.
The strange thing is, I’m okay with that. Relationships tend to end badly for me, in either one of two ways: violence or apathy. Thankfully, it’s usually apathy. I’m an easy girlfriend to lose interest in, because I am who I say I am. I don’t try to impress people with pretending to be interested in things that I’m not, and I’m not afraid to call bullshit on someone who is trying to impress me when they don’t know what they’re talking about. I know I’m generalizing here, but men aren’t interested in finding a woman who is exactly what they’re looking for. No matter what they say or think, they always want to fix whatever they think is broken about you, or change you to better fit whatever “ideal” mold they have designed in their mind.
I’ve discovered it’s easier to just not get involved with anyone. I like who I am, most of the time. I’m weird, I’m eclectic, I enjoy having crazy colored hair, I think a good book is better company than most people (especially those who watch any sort of “reality” TV), I get a stupid grin on my face every time I see my car because it reminds me that I can be me instead of who I’m expected to be. I’m not perfect, but I’m perfectly me. I like me.
veritas and balderdash 