Lucy Turner
It’s a common cliche: I’m single and am now required to despise hearts and chocolates throughout the month of February to prove I’m a strong, independent woman. It’s almost required of every single woman to hate and almost be disgusted by every obnoxiously large teddy bear.
Valentine’s Day is undoubtedly about love. There are many legends on the details that started the holiday of romance starring St. Valentine. One possibility tells the story of a Roman ruler who made marriage illegal knowing men were more likely to fight in war if they weren't wed. Another story is that St. Valentine himself sent the first Valentine’s card after being imprisoned for helping Christians escape Roman prisons.
No matter what the true origin may be, the main idea is clear: sacrificing whatever need be for the sake of love. Even as the semi-cynical, very single person I am, I am able to grasp the sincerity of the holiday. Although the more popular mindset, I think it is one’s individual job to define what V-Day means to them. Love comes in many forms; I don’t think February 14th should be put into a category where only people who don’t frequent singles’ bars or have watched How to Lose a Guy in Ten Days sixteen times are allowed to celebrate.
You also have the argument , “You should spend time with the one you love everyday, not just the day it’s brought to your attention by Hallmark and Hershey’s Chocolate.” Which I completely agree with; however, if you only feel loved on 364/365 days, that’s another issue than society’s infatuation with chocolates in a heart shaped box. It’s endearing that all over the world we take a day and set time aside to make our love for others our top priority.
In my opinion, you can still be a badass woman and feel giddy when you walk into Kroger and see the middle aisle decked out in pink hearts and fake flowers. It’s not about sacrificing your independence, it’s about prioritizing loved ones.
It’s a common cliche: I’m single and am now required to despise hearts and chocolates throughout the month of February to prove I’m a strong, independent woman. It’s almost required of every single woman to hate and almost be disgusted by every obnoxiously large teddy bear.
Valentine’s Day is undoubtedly about love. There are many legends on the details that started the holiday of romance starring St. Valentine. One possibility tells the story of a Roman ruler who made marriage illegal knowing men were more likely to fight in war if they weren't wed. Another story is that St. Valentine himself sent the first Valentine’s card after being imprisoned for helping Christians escape Roman prisons.
No matter what the true origin may be, the main idea is clear: sacrificing whatever need be for the sake of love. Even as the semi-cynical, very single person I am, I am able to grasp the sincerity of the holiday. Although the more popular mindset, I think it is one’s individual job to define what V-Day means to them. Love comes in many forms; I don’t think February 14th should be put into a category where only people who don’t frequent singles’ bars or have watched How to Lose a Guy in Ten Days sixteen times are allowed to celebrate.
You also have the argument , “You should spend time with the one you love everyday, not just the day it’s brought to your attention by Hallmark and Hershey’s Chocolate.” Which I completely agree with; however, if you only feel loved on 364/365 days, that’s another issue than society’s infatuation with chocolates in a heart shaped box. It’s endearing that all over the world we take a day and set time aside to make our love for others our top priority.
In my opinion, you can still be a badass woman and feel giddy when you walk into Kroger and see the middle aisle decked out in pink hearts and fake flowers. It’s not about sacrificing your independence, it’s about prioritizing loved ones.