For Annie’s first article, she discusses the struggles of Valentine’s Day, and the expectations of; admirers, flowers, chocolates, that have been associated with the fourteenth since we were young.
As many of us will be all too aware, whether in dread or anticipation, Valentine’s Day is just around the corner.
For me, Valentine’s Day has always been a concept that perplexes me. No card from a mystery sender, or fancy dinner, or surprise letter-box flowers, however delightful and appreciated they are, will convince me of the fact that Valentine’s Day remains an unsolvable enigma.
I think part of the power of the fourteenth (that in turn results in our shelves being stacked high with red, plush merchandise) is its simplicity. It is day fuelled, quite simply, by intrigue and desire.
It starts when you’re young, with the small things:
Will they? Won’t they? Do I?
The fear, or the expectancy, that a folded piece of paper might be pushed into your locker, artfully dropped into your bag, or humbly left on your desk. Hate it or love, even as a child Valentine’s Day holds gravity: embarrassment vs glee.
Now this is where my marmite metaphor really comes in; the reputation of marmite is infamous and that’s what creates the urge to try it. To see through the golden doors at what all the talk is about. To find out which cult you’ll become a part of. Only Valentine’s Day has an unfortunate two-player game, that complicates the matter.
It’s the desperation to be with someone, at that right moment, just so you’re allowed a taste of what it is to have a traditional, cosy, couply Valentine’s Day. And then those who love it want to be allowed back next year. To get another taste. But St Valentine Air isn’t like the other airlines, no baggage restrictions, but rather some of their passengers discover secret baggage requirements instead.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m not conforming to a solely conventional manner of marking the day. Galentine’s and Ladentine’s are unparalleled devices of inclusion, but by their nature they acknowledge the conventional makeup of the day that I’m referring to. Regrettably, there is simply no escaping it.
For me, as one-half of a very loving but rarely conventionally romantic relationship, Valentine’s Day poses yet another dilemma. Here February’s marmite becomes merely a mundane item on the weekly shopping list. Essential, for it would seem depressingly cynical to not acknowledge it even a little, but there is no real excitement. For me Valentine’s Day remains a man-made by product that latches itself to something much greater, the relationship itself, and I’m comfortable in a take it or leave it buffet approach.
So, love it, hate it, sending cards to friends, wishing you could get a taste, or choosing to simply avoid it altogether. Valentine’s Day 2022 is just around the corner. In consolidation to avoiders and haters, I will remind you that give it a couple of days and you won’t have to hear another word about it for eleven more blissful months.
But to the lovers of February’s marmite, I wish you a happy Valentine’s Day and I hope it holds all the intrigue and glee you fondly reminisce.