Yet again, that day of the year has come round where I am finding myself ‘celebrating’ some obscure holy man who – fun fact – is also the patron saint of epilepsy. No, I am not some grumpy old lady who is pissed off that she has been left on the shelf while everyone else is frollocking in merry dualism, because after all I am single pretty much out of choice. And let’s be honest, the entertainment value of me being unmanned is not to be underestimated.
It is the brutal commercialisation of it all that really get’s my goat; all this in your face coupledom and twosomeness is just a little bit too much. While it is amusing to see people scrambling through the remnants of merchandise last minute to find something for their other/better half that somewhat says ‘I care’, it also makes me a little sad for them because it makes you wonder how much of this sentiment is real. It also reminds me of my first marriage and those are not the best memories; considering how much emphasis my ex would put on this particular day (fake red roses will make my skin crawl forever) and I felt forced hold up a facade for the rest of the world, when everything including myself was already going to pieces behind closed doors. And it does make me wonder just how many other couples are playing pretend year in, year out, who hardly work together as partners for the rest of the year but feel obliged to prove to the world and maybe even more so themselves on this one day a year, that somehow they made it through another 365 days of being miserable together rather than taking the risk of trying to be happy on their own.
Of course I know genuinely happy couples and I obviously don’t begrudge them their happiness, far from it But here is the funny thing – most of them don’t really go all out on Valentine’s Day. They simply don’t need to. And they are also the ones who don’t question me for being single or make me feel like I am some kind of inferior being for an awful onesome rather than a terrific twosome. Their interest in my wellbeing is not defined through another person, nor is my happiness. And even more importantly, I am not seen as a threat or an intruder, just as a friend.
But just because some of us are currently on a solo flight really doesn’t mean we shouldn’t celebrate being loved. I know for a fact that I am loved by plenty of people, and they tell me so quite frequently – in fact, we all are in someone’s heart. Always. That makes me not only very grateful but also happy indeed. No other half needed for that. Having said that, of course I will buy myself a massive bunch of flowers (no red roses though, that would be too corny) and will crack open a bottle of bubbly because I am fabulous and amazing and bloody well deserve it. And so should every other single girl or boy out there. We all deserve to show ourselves a little bit of love. Who am I kidding we deserve a lot! Not only do we manage life on our own in general, but look at this crazy year we just had. That we had to survive on our own. And we somehow got through. We are nothing short of incredible. I think that is worth remembering every day. We are great on our own. We do not need to be defined through someone else. We are beautiful and loved and imperfectly perfect, just the way we are. And while we are celebrating ourselves, we should throw a little love at our fellow singles.
So I raise my glass to all you singles out there in the world and send you good vibes and love and shooting stars. May you find whatever it is that makes you truly happy. See the awesomeness in yourself. Because the greatest love story of our lives will always be the one we have with ourselves.