Friday, February 12, 1999
Alone, but not desperate
CHOICE: Single status on Valentine’s Day an act of choice, not
Cupid
By Maryam Baqi
It’s undeniable. Every Valentine’s Day I am irrevocably single.
I’ll get close to being a part of a couple, though, you know?
Things will be warm ‘n’ fuzzy until a few days before Love Day when
suddenly he’s not sure, and maybe we need some space, and yeah,
maybe we should see other people. Whatever. Without fail,
Valentine’s Day is not a day of love for me.
The first few times this happened, I would swear upon a pile of
torn red hearts, half-eaten chocolates and a voodoo doll of Cupid
that I would stay single forever out of spite. And I’d stick to it
– until, well, until spring rolled around and that, um, happy, I
love everyone, no drugs involved feeling would come over me. But
until then, I was bitter.
To try to cheer me up, my friends with valentines of their own
would tell me that it was OK. That last year they didn’t have
anyone either. It’s just a day, anyway. No big deal. I’ll find
someone. He’s out there waiting for me. Blah, blah, blah.
All I could think about was how much I would have liked to be
with someone, to show how happy I was to finally find my soul mate,
to show just how sweet I thought my lovebug was, how I would always
be there for him, no matter what. My God, I wanted to be
cheesy!
But I was single and, hence, convinced that it was a day of
torture for all single women.
Sometimes I would try to ignore the day, but that didn’t work
with all the damn hearts and goo-goo-eyed people everywhere. Then I
would lie: "Of course I have a Valentine! He’s just, um, out of the
country for a while."
On one of my more depressing Valentine’s Days, I went looking
for love (read: I went on a blind date). I now highly advise
against this because it is rather presumptuous to expect to find
love on Valentine’s Day.
But why the hell was I so bothered by the fact that I didn’t
have anyone on this one specific day we have arbitrarily designated
Valentine’s Day? I mean, if they were to make, say, May 15
Valentine’s Day, I wouldn’t be so unhappy simply because, by
chance, I have been with someone on that date for the last few
years.
Honestly, I didn’t really feel like a loser in the Love
Department. What bothered me was the fact that somehow I was viewed
as a loser for not having someone. I was, in other people’s eyes,
single because of some inadequacy on my part. Maybe I wasn’t
flirting enough, or wearing the right clothes, or saying the right
things. Maybe I should change this or that in order to get Mr.
Right.
Know what I’ve come to realize recently? This ubiquitous man
exists in a fantasy we had when we were eight, playing with our
Barbies, dreaming that Ken would come to life.
Right now, I’m not wanting a plastic, "No problem, let me sweep
you off of your feet with my Colgate smile" kind of guy. Not
because it wouldn’t be nice, mind you, or because I’m not
interested in guys. I got over my staying single phase. I’m
actually quite keen on men.
What’s funny is that despite my past feelings about this day and
the discomfort I felt when people would ask me if I had a
Valentine, I’m single by choice this year.
I feel an explanation is in order. As the editor of a feminist
magazine, there is this notion that I should not have love problems
simply because I do not want men. It’s not that I don’t want men.
(This guy who I’ve been staring at in the computer lab all morning
can vouch for that.)
The point is that I don’t want someone on Valentine’s Day for
the sake of having someone. How satisfying is that? I want
something real or nothing at all. That’s the way I work. It’s fine
that I’m not getting a dozen red roses and a box of chocolates.
It’s fine that this Feb. 14 I don’t have a Valentine. It’s fine
because on Jan. 13 I got that stuff, and you know what? I just
might get it again on May 15.
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