Today is Valentine’s Day. For me, it’s a Saturday like any other. I’m not going to complain about being single, because that got old a long time ago and accomplishes nothing. What I will do is be pragmatic about what this holiday means for not just me, but for a variety of people.
In the good old days when I took a train to work, I would see men going home on the 5:00 express with balloons and roses in their hands. Sometimes they seemed happy about it. Sometimes it was difficult to read their emotions. They did make the effort, and I imagined the women they went home to and the joy that came with the simple act of remembering the love sparked between them.
On the other hand, I just read earlier today about a man who, upon hearing a random stranger’s compliment about how pretty his girlfriend was, went home and argued with her about it, and ended up breaking her eye socket.
Why this particular holiday has turned into such a polarizing event is unclear. One thing is certain, and it’s that love and interpersonal relationships are not what they used to be.
Once upon a time, love was simple. One person found the presence of another to be a thrill beyond measure. They met, they dated, they possibly became close friends or even partners, leading to marriage and a future filled with all the things life is made of.
For some people, there is no simplicity to love. Back when it was an elementary school tradition to decorate shoeboxes with colorful applications and cut a delivery slot in the top for the big day, there were always one or two students whose boxes were empty. It was accepted. No effort was made to fix it. It was a fact of life that some people were simply not eligible for the basics of human compassion.
Somehow the evolution of women also meant that men grew to resent us somewhat. We went from Rosie the Riveter who stepped up to do abandoned jobs when the men went to war in Europe and the Pacific in World War II, to the perfectly put-together housewife in a dress and apron with dinner, alcohol and a smoke ready for the hard-working man of the house upon his return. Then came the era of “free love” and rebellion, but human sexuality was still mentioned with restraint, followed by the evolution of openness about everything. It seems now that both genders have access to more information (and misinformation) than before.
And we get stories about the father-to-be playing video games while the mother is in active labor or passing out when they show an interest in the process and realize how much actually comes out from something they, um, put in, nine months ago. And they get annoyed about it and lose respect for women. On the flipside, new mothers dealing with gaming addicts for fathers are not in any better situation.
So, once a year we turn all the craziness into a box of candy (which is infuriatingly artificial and overpriced) and a bunch of roses forced in greenhouses and wrapped in pink and red for presentation’s sake. And this is supposed to be an expression of love.
Whatever happened to human values? Respect and dignity are a part of love as much as that frisson coming from being struck by Cupid’s arrow. The poor woman who had her eye rearranged just because somebody said she was pretty is spending the day recovering. Some will endure abusive relationships, while others may be lucky enough to receive an affirmation of what should be true love.
Why everybody doesn’t deserve such luck is one reason why I’m spending yet another Valentine’s Day alone. Whatever you’re doing, here’s hoping it at least doesn’t leave anything (including a heart) broken.
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