I used to loathe Valentine’s Day like a good single person should. The constant reminders of how alone I was in the world did little to mend the damaged psyche a string of bad dating experiences had given me.
Now that I am not longer single (happily engaged, if you hadn’t heard), the holiday has taken on a different sort of feeling.
While it’s true that I no longer dread the annual inundation of red flowers and pink hearts, I find myself wondering if I have swung to far to the other side of the Valentine’s Day trap. Do I suddenly feel obligated to buy gifts for the one I love because Hallmark tells me to? I hope not. Would I like to believe that I treat every day as Valentine’s Day? I would, but let’s be practical.
I think the biggest thing I’ve noticed is that I am now stockpiling the little good-natured “I just thought of this because I was thinking of you” gifts that pop into my head over the course of a week or a month.
Rather than just show up at my fiancé’s apartment on a random Tuesday with a surprise gift of … (ah ah ah, can’t spoil the surprise yet), I tuck the idea away and save it for the allotted Tuesday that is marked with a pink hi-lighter in my calendar.
Of course, I can’t blame this all on the candy marketers of the world. I think a similar routine is adopted as birthdays, anniversaries and Christmas each draws near.
Perhaps gift-hoarding is as much a part of our culture these days as is gift giving.
