If there were an Ebenezer Scrooge for Valentines Day, I think I would be the perfect candidate. Granted, it is much more fun now that I have a child to share it with. But the painful memories go way back to middle school. Grade school Valentine Days were still great fun, exchanging Valentines with classmates, seeing who would make the coolest mailbox for them, and having a fun party courtesy of the room mothers. But once puberty hit, Valentines Day was the cruelest day of the year. I was always the awkward nerdy girl in school - boys loved me if I had the right answer for their homework assignment, but their interest didn't go much beyond that. So seeing all of the popular girls getting roses and gifts from boy after boy did little to boost my self-esteem. My parents always went out of their way to give me a nice gift and card, but I was too deep in my own pity party to appreciate it. The misery just continued through high school, college, and my professional life. Even now that I'm married, my husband is not very sentimental and doesn't do much to acknowledge the day. Fortunately now I'm old enough and wise enough (ha, ha) to realize that it's just another day and has little significance in the big picture. I've always had plenty of people around me that I love dearly and who love me and appreciate me - that matters so much more than roses from a boy!
PS The only thing I REALLY enjoy about Valentines Day is the half price chocolate the day after! Meet me at Target tomorrow morning!
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1 comment:
Sister, I am with ya.
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