Valentine’s Day is a fascinating holiday because it manages to remind you of everything you don’t have while charging you triple for it. Suddenly, roses cost more than groceries, reservations are booked six weeks in advance, and everyone is either head-over-heels in love or pretending very convincingly on Instagram.
And if you’re single? Congratulations. You’re now the proud owner of a front-row seat to everyone else’s curated romance.
Valentine’s Day has a way of exposing the gap between expectations and reality. The holiday was supposedly created to celebrate love, but in practice, it mostly highlights effort, or the complete lack of it. Because nothing brings clarity quite like realizing that the same man who “doesn’t believe in Valentine’s Day” somehow believes in fantasy football, March Madness, and a five-day bachelor party in Nashville.
Once again, I’m not asking the same question I asked in a previous column, Where have all the good men gone, (because I am still stunned at the enormous amounts of comments it drew) I’m not asking for a diamond necklace or a private jet to Paris.
I’m asking for intentionality. A plan. A text that doesn’t say, “So… what do you want to do?” at 4:47 p.m. on Feb. 14. Romance doesn’t require a credit card limit; it requires thought, which, judging by the current dating climate, is apparently in short supply.
There’s something especially cruel about Valentine’s Day in adulthood. When you’re younger, it’s candy grams and construction-paper hearts. When you’re older, it’s watching women convince themselves that “he’s just not romantic” is a personality trait and not a warning sign. We’ve lowered the bar so far that if a man remembers the date at all, he’s considered a keeper.
Men will insist they don’t need a holiday to show love, and then proceed to show it exactly zero times throughout the year.
And yet, society still loves to ask women why they’re single, as if we’re hoarding commitment in our purses or actively turning down men who can hold a conversation and a fork at the same time. The truth is: Valentine’s Day doesn’t hurt because we want flowers. It hurts because it reminds us how rare consistent effort has become.
So this is my Valentine’s Day message, especially to the men:
Romance is not embarrassing. Planning is not emasculating. Trying does not make you desperate. And showing up — fully, intentionally, and on time — will never make you less of a man. If anything, it’s what separates you from the crowd of men who think a “Happy Valentine’s Day” text at midnight counts as effort.
And to the women spending Valentine’s Day alone, with friends, or with a bottle of wine that never disappoints: You are not behind. You are not unlovable. You are not “too much.” You are simply unwilling to settle for someone who treats love like an inconvenience.
So whether this Valentine’s Day includes a candlelit dinner, takeout on the couch, or a group chat full of unhinged commentary, remember this:
The absence of a Valentine does not mean the absence of worth.
And the right kind of love?
It doesn’t need reminders. It shows up.
