This weekend I was reminded that love doesnt always come from a partner, in fact, sometimes it doesn’t come from another person at all. Valentine’s Day originated as a Christian feast to honor Saint Valentine, a figure in the world of romance and love. We’ve commercialized this once religous celebration, and turned it into something that’s either looked forward to or despised by those who don’t feel they qualify for the celebration, simply because we lack a significant other. Love is not limited to a partner.
Leading up to Valentine’s day I received a box containing all things pink, red, hearts, and love from my mum, so I could spread it around my little studio. Unrelated to the holiday, a call from my sister reminded me she is my person, my most trusted confidant, and the strongest (thoroughly exercised) shoulder to lean on. I spent Valentine’s Day morning at work, watching bouquets of flowers roll in the door, I watched and smiled satisfied to merely observe and not recieve. Our UPS man of 2+ years delivered packages around his usual scheduled time, only this time he carried a single rose, just for me (He most certinly found it somewhere and held onto it throughout the day, but that in itself made my heart warm). After returning home from an exhausting day of love, I gathered myself to attend dinner with my bestfriend. I shuffled down the hall in my pajamas to find an apartment candle lit and covered in rose petals, there were flowers and chocolate's and sweet little notes; This was love, but I didn’t need any of the boxes, or roses, or candles to know it.
I laughed hysterically at messages from family and friends, I cried for no good reason, I ate like a monster and slept better than I have in years. Saturday morning I woke up, drank my coffee, went for a run, meditated, and for a moment I sat on the floor, with no one around me, and couldn't be more certain that I am loved, not only by the people around me, but by myself.
Happy Valentine’s Day