Having grown up in the Holiday free zone of Jehovah's Witnesses brand of Christianity, I find that now Holidays grab me fully, either with a deep and ecstatic desire to celebrate or a numbed out indifference to their existence. When I am numbed out, I wonder...
I was early visited by the Ghost of Valentine's Past this week. With her help I found a telling pattern that has me trading in my habitual cynicism on the subject for a sappy tune.
I recalled the intensity of expectation that rippled through the classrooms of my childhood in the days leading up to Valentine's. The riot of red and pink craft creations, doilies in overabundant use, red dye #5 coated tongues and the distinctive smell of candy coated chocolate mingled with construction paper.
As little ones the conditioning began. How did it feel to be the one who didn't get a valentine at all? Even worse how did it feel to get the same valentine as all of your classmates from the one person you had hoped would treat you just a little bit different?
As we got older, it just got worse. The carnation bake sale in which the girls vie for decent placement, suffering throughout, with the boys deftly handling it's booby traps through numerous evasive actions. The coveted red (it's true love) the sad little pinks (at least I'm in "like" with you) and the dime a dozen whites (guess it's gonna be "best friends forever.")
Not to even mention those of us with desires yet to be sanctioned by authority. Maybe you weren't looking for attention from the opposite sex. Where were you left to turn on that fateful day in the classrooms of our youth?
Secretly, I was immensely grateful that it wasn't on my list of obligations.
Then I left the JW way of life and started dating men that assumed I knew how to participate in all that history of expectation. Mine was more the history of a train that never left the station. Figured it should just stay right there, a guaranteed way to avoid any stops at Heart Break Hill, Dysfunction Junction or the tear filled Valley of the Unrequited.
I didn't even know how disappointing this could be for a man to have, on the day reserved for ludicrous displays of affection and romance, his lady friend forget it was happening at all. The first time I saw it in my partner's eyes I made a mad (and successful) dash to purchase a very thoughtful gift - I am thoughtful so, I already had my eye on something. I just hadn't been thoughtful about the delivery date.
Ever since, if I had a special someone on Feb. 14th I would go through some sort of ritual, if they wanted to. Otherwise, I just let it pass me by without as much as a nod of acknowledgement in its direction.
This year I am willing to see that for exactly what it is. A fear of feeling deeply, feeling with abandon. If you are willing to feel any one of your emotions fully - even the fun ones - you are bound to begin to feel them all - even the not so fun ones.
No love without heartbreak, no desire without disappointment and no all consuming passion without still and quiet sadness.
This day, Valentine's Day, is a day for shouting your feelings of Love from the rooftops with lusty and feverish abandon. And who you are giving this love to is really the point. It's your Love and you get to give it wherever you want to. And you don't have to give it anyone you don't want to give it to (Valentine's for everyone? Friendship flowers? Those practices really miss the mark.)
So, in the interest of fully thriving and living life I say, "Bring on this Valentine's Day with it's full and undeniably scary force!"
I LOVE YOU
(and you know who YOU are.)
And just so YOU know, on this Valentine's Day and every one hence forth, I am totally game for the following:
Flowers, cuddling in the blankets, sweet things in my mouth (and my ears,) passionate love making, feeling adored, feeling special and feeling loved.
I promises I will keep reciprocating like a chocolate fondue fountain, a never ending cascade of syrupy sweet sensuality.
Come and get it, lover... Be My Valentine.
