“Mama, is today my birthday?” I remember asking my mother that question as a four-year-old with sad floppy pigtails and a permanent kool-aid mustache.
She got down on my level and shook her head, “no honey, it’s July, you have a long time to wait.”
I countered with “but wait, is tomorrow my birthday?”…It was safe to assume I was setting myself up for more disappointment… was she going to tell me the tooth fairy wasn’t real next?...smh.
As a small child, I had a really hard time understanding the days of the week, how to tie your shoes without two bunnies ears and the concept that your birthday is only one day a year.
I wanted every day to be my birthday, because who doesn’t want cake, attention and presents, EVERY SINGLE DAY.
And unlike the average bear, I have a beautiful, heart-filled, chocolate covered, fourteen-day build up to my favorite day. Not to mention that my special day ALWAYS falls on a three-day-weekend.
I mean, February 16th is the ultimate birthday. I think everyone can agree that if their birthday was February 16th, they’d be a birthday person too.
I love the fact that our consumerist-driven society starts celebrating Valentines Day on January 2nd, because it means the lovey-dovey build-up to my birthday is only greater and longer.
I get so frustrated with anti-valentines day people, because I take personal offense that they are hating on my birthday month and my general style aesthetic. I’m also offended, because I am the human-personification of Valentines Day.
I know that technically Saint Valentine is the human personification of Valentines day, but hear me out, I commit my life to this shit.
I am a fan of snail mail, hearts are my favorite shape, I wear pink on the daily, talk about love constantly, and eat empty, sweet calories like it’s my day-job.
In a “chicken or the egg” type conundrum, I always wonder if the fact that my birthday is so close to Valentines day effects my love for it, which is reflected in my style and general disposition, or if it’s some sort of reverse.
I’ve written over 30 Valentines Day related articles on this blog, and I can honestly say I’ve only been taken for two of those years. That means that my love of Valentines Day itself is greater than my love for a romantic partner.
What’s funny to me is that people paint Valentines Day to be this all-or-nothing sort of deal. Either you are in a Nicholas Sparks wet dream, or you are crying eating chocolate in your sweatpants, and I say, WHY CAN’T YOU HAVE BOTH?
I don’t see why you couldn’t wear sweatpants and cry with your boyfriend? Or take yourself on a solo horse-drawn carriage around Central Park!
Valentines Day has shitty stigma because people make it that way. You are not a loser if you don’t have a date, and you aren’t the hottest thing since Hot Pockets if you do have one!
My point here is that my love of Valentines Day and my birthday run deeper than my love of almost anything. And while you’re entitled to your own opinion about the holiday, I truly think there is something much worse than being single on valentines day, and that is, getting a papercut while making a valentine for your hot, married teacher.
I don't really know if this article has a clear point. But what I want is to ask you to join me in my celebration! Lets talk about things we love, love itself and our love of being sad, throughout this entire month!
Who is with me?