I’ve never had a valentine. I’ve dated boys here and there, but because of distance, timing, and other circumstances, I’ve never truly had a valentine. Or, at least, a day where I celebrate my relationship with my significant other on February 14th in person.
You’ve all heard this before: society creates this narrative that every young woman needs a man to sleep next to, to tell secrets to, to go on dates with, to support, to rely on. And most importantly, to spend Valentine’s Day with.
And as a modern day feminist, I try to push this narrative and feeling out of sight. I don’t want to want a guy to complete me. And yet, somehow, I always develop a slight pit in my stomach when things don’t go quite as planned. A single moment of hesitation, where I wonder if I’m not good enough because I haven’t traveled down the path that society wants me to. I secretly daydream about the day that I get the Valentine’s date: the surprise bouquet of flowers, the chocolates, the fancy dinner. I want to be independent, but I’m a sucker for romance. As a single woman, you spend the days longing for something that you are told from a young age will make your life immensely better. If you have that date, that dinner, that person, everything in your life will make sense.
But nowadays there’s another option: Galentine’s Day. A day for the women who spend Valentine’s day appreciating their friends instead of going on a date with a significant other.
In high school, I had a friend named Sanam. She was a year older than me, and I looked up to her like no one else. She was cool: she wore cool clothes, cool makeup, she did well in school but wasn’t over the top like I was, but most importantly, she was never boy crazy. As a young highschooler, I couldn’t fathom the idea of someone actually turning down dates with attractive people, just because they wanted to focus on themselves or liked the idea of being “single.” I wanted to be like her, to not have the desire for others to like me so dearly.
On Valentine’s Day the year I met Sanam, I was sitting at home doing homework. I wasn’t necessarily moping because I was busy and had lots of things to do, but for a moment that day, I felt the loss of not having anyone to share it with. That night, I heard a knock at the door. For a quick second, my heart skipped a beat. Had some mysterious suitor appeared at the door? As the door swung open, I noticed, instead, two delicate roses on my step. One for me, and one for my sister, each with little notes attached. As I read the notes, I realized that, instead of a romantic partner, I had actually received a gift of appreciation from the person who embodied everything I wanted to be. While I had spent all these little moments in my life wishing to be someone else or with someone else, I had forgotten something important: that there exist other important relationships in your life. Duh. Sanam once again had taught me an important lesson. I was just as important to her as a friend as any significant other would be. Maybe life wouldn’t give me chocolates from a boyfriend or a husband. But it was just as sweet receiving them from a friend. This whole time, I really just wanted to be appreciated for being me. By delivering me a red rose, that’s what Sanam did, she reminded me that friends mattered a whole lot, too.
I now deliver roses every year to my friends on Galentine’s Day.