Last Valentine’s Day, I took myself out to dinner and a movie. Sitting there alone felt uncomfortable at first — surrounded by couples, I couldn’t help but wonder if I was being judged. I had never taken myself on a self-date before, and doing something like that felt completely outside of my comfort zone. I questioned whether I was doing Valentine’s Day “wrong.” Somewhere between watching One of Them Days and finishing my dinner, I realized I was doing something new: showing up for myself and learning how to enjoy my own company. That night marked a shift in how I viewed Valentine’s Day. I chose to reclaim the day as a moment of intentional care — showing up for myself through small acts like setting boundaries and finding moments of joy. As a college student navigating independence and transition, I began to understand that treating yourself is not selfish. It is a meaningful act of self-respect.
Doing It Anyways
Before leaving, I made a point of getting dressed up and putting on my makeup not for anyone else, but for me. I took my time getting ready, picking an outfit I felt good in, and doing my makeup the way I like it. Even though I was spending Valentine’s Day on my own, I still wanted to feel confident walking out the door. Just because I was alone didn’t mean I wasn’t allowed to look good. Walking into that restaurant, I was reminded that I still deserved to feel gorgeous, regardless of who was or wasn’t sitting across from me. If my Valentine that night was me, then I was still going to show up cute. Walking into the restaurant alone, I immediately noticed everything around me. Couples were sharing plates, laughing softly, and leaning across the table, making the room feel extra intimate. I became overly aware of where to put my phone, how long I was taking to look at the menu, and whether the server felt awkward seating just one person on Valentine’s Day. My thoughts bounced between confidence and insecurity as I wondered whether this was an empowering moment or just painfully uncomfortable. Still, I stayed. I ordered my food, sat with the awkwardness, and allowed myself to exist in that moment without rushing through it. The longer I sat there, the less I cared about what anyone else might be thinking. I wasn’t waiting on anyone or splitting an entrée — I was there for me. For the first time that night, the discomfort began to fade, replaced by a quiet sense of pride for doing something that once felt so far outside my comfort zone.
Finding Comfort in My Own Company
After dinner, I headed to the movie theater alone, which somehow felt even more intimidating than the restaurant. Sitting in my seat with a bucket of popcorn and gummy worms, I looked around and realized I wasn’t the only person there by themselves, a small but comforting reminder. Once the lights dimmed and the movie started, the nerves disappeared. I laughed, got invested in the story, and stopped thinking about who I was or wasn’t with. By the time the movie ended, I felt lighter, and I had genuinely enjoyed spending time in my own company. What started as a night full of overthinking turned into something I truly appreciated. Being alone didn’t feel sad or lonely it felt like something I chose. That feeling stayed with me long after I left the theater.
Ending the Night on My Own Terms
When I got home, I leaned fully into the comfort of the night. I put on the comfiest pajamas I could find, turned on Waiting to Exhale, grabbed the chocolate and candy my parents had given me for Valentine’s Day, and allowed myself to relax. Later, I called my best friend, and we talked about everything and nothing at the same time, laughing and catching up like we always do. That moment reminded me that love does not only exist in romantic relationships. It shows up in friendships, quiet rituals, and the ways we choose to take care of ourselves. Ending the night that way made me realize I wasn’t missing out on anything; I was simply celebrating differently.
Valentine’s Day, But Make It About Me
Listen, Valentine’s Day does not have to be that serious. If you’re single, in a situationship, or just not in the mood for forced romance, that’s okay. Take yourself out. Get dressed just because. Buy yourself flowers because they’re cute. Go to the movies alone and order dessert without sharing it. Last year taught me that taking myself out wasn’t sad, it was actually kind of fun. Awkward at first? Absolutely. Empowering by the end? Definitely. This Valentine’s Day, I’m not waiting on a text, a reservation, or someone else to define how the day should go. I already know I’ll be fine probably with food, a movie, something sweet, or time spent with my girls.
So, if Valentine’s Day is coming up and you’re feeling a little unsure about it, consider this your sign. Romanticize your own life. Make plans with yourself. Sometimes, the best Valentine’s date you can have is you.
