I’ve always found Valentine’s Day a little… theatrical. I understand that it’s supposed to be a significant day of love, but in recent years, I think it’s strayed into more of a commercial celebration of public romance. There’s a script to follow: flowers, incredibly overpriced table d’hôte menus, and Instagram captions that are almost vomit-inducingly cringe-worthy. I don’t say this to sound bitter (I am a romantic at heart, no matter what my friends would like to claim), but something about the day makes it feel less like a celebration of love and more like a public performance of affection that insists on defining love in the narrowest, most commercial terms possible.
Enter Galentine’s Day. A holiday that, on the surface, feels almost tongue-in-cheek, and in reality did grow from comedic beginnings. It was first coined in 2010 by the sitcom Parks and Recreation, famously describing it as “ladies celebrating ladies”. Originally a joke, Galentine’s Day has outgrown its punchline status, and over a decade and a half later, February 13th brings women together around the world for brunch, exchanging cards, and celebrating friendship. I think somewhere along the way, Galentine’s Day stopped being ironic and started being sincere. It offers an alternative narrative: that love does not have to be romantic to be meaningful, and that female friendship is no longer a placeholder until romance arrives, but instead is a central, sustaining force in its own right.
I know that for me, friendships are where the most genuine emotional connections happen. These are the relationships that span years and decades, adapting as we change jobs, cities, and identities. They survive long-distance, missed calls, and wildly different life timelines. They also require a level of emotional vulnerability that is quite different from that of a romantic relationship. Your girlfriends are the ones who listen to the same story about your gym crush told three different ways. They’re the ones who sit with you on the bathroom floor after you’ve had a breakdown. They’re the ones who will willingly go on aimless walks just to spend time with you. And unlike romantic relationships, which can sometimes feel conditional and shaped by timing and physical attraction, female friendships are often less fragile, conceived from genuine love for your personality and not from physical appearance. For me, it’s been one of the purest forms of unconditional love that I have experienced in my life.
Romantic love still holds its prestige, however. It’s the relationship we are taught to prioritise, one that signals adulthood and success. In the past, there was a certain irony to the way society mocked heterosexual relationships, viscerally complaining about one another’s partner, but still entertaining their presence. But in recent years, there has been a definitive shift in this regard. There is a growing cultural discomfort with the idea that romantic partnership should be the central part of people’s lives, particularly for women. Last year, Vogue Magazine released an article called “Is Having a Boyfriend Embarrassing Now?”, which gave a refreshingly honest insight into the dynamics of heterosexual relationships, which can often be so disappointing. Emotional labour, uneven power balance, and economic realities are just some of a very long list of things that many women do not want to deal with. Friendship, by comparison, feels refreshingly honest. Female friendships have often been framed as secondary or frivolous, something that exists in the margins of “real” relationships. But on introspection, my female friends have been some of the most important pillars in my life, and celebrating these types of life-affirming relationships with the importance given to romance is essential to continue this societal shift.
Galentine’s Day taps into this cultural movement. It does not reject romance outright, but it refuses to centre it. I think it appeals to me and so many other women because it acknowledges that love exists in many forms. It says: you are already loved, and you do not need to be someone’s better half to have value. This is a radical message, particularly for women, some of whom have been conditioned to believe that romance is a measure of personal worth. I think that celebrating friendships unapologetically is one step towards pushing back against that narrative.
Of course, this is not to say that romantic love is obsolete, or that Valentine’s Day is destined for extinction. Many people genuinely enjoy the rituals of romance, and there is nothing wrong with that. Love stories are beautiful, and they matter. But I think Galentine’s Day offers an alternative lens. It doesn’t change the value of romance, but it does change its monopoly. And I think that its growing popularity is a sign that we are becoming more comfortable valuing the relationships that sustain us day to day, rather than chasing an idealised version of love that looks good on paper.
So, is Galentine’s Day the new Valentine’s Day? Not exactly. But it does feel like a reflection of the changing priorities of women. Hopefully, we are moving away from the idea that romance is the pinnacle of human experience, and towards the quieter, steadier truth that real love can exist within the sanctity of sisterhood. And if one day in February gives us an excuse to acknowledge that (over chocolate, wine, or a very long voice note), maybe that’s something worth celebrating.