Disheartened?

Does anyone like Valentine’s Day? There’s the occasional year when it’s enjoyable, or even thrilling, but mostly it’s a downer. Sometimes it’s dreadful. Even if I’m happy with my life, even if I’m in a solid, loving relationship, when Valentine’s Day arrives I often feel vaguely disheartened that everything’s not more romantic, somehow. I've read the fairy tales. I watch the Today show. I walk past the Hallmark store. So I wonder, aren’t I supposed to be wrapped in a haze of red roses and floating hearts and little soft bunny kisses? Every day, all the time? Why are so many of my conversations with my beloved about who last did the dishes or how there’re 230 channels and never anything on tv? What’s wrong with us?

Maybe something, maybe nothing. But one thing is certain: not measuring up to the standard of romance set for us by Valentine’s Day mythology is not the indicator. Here's my patented prescription for Valentine Melancholia: Turn the pressure off. Resolve to gauge your happiness—romantic or otherwise—at a time less fraught with unrealistic expectations. Try the Ides of March, or Flag Day, or Arbor Day. The Autumnal Equinox is always nice. Are you contented? Do you have love in your life? Don’t count only romantic partners: tally up your mom and your brothers. Your sisters count, and your best friends and your kids and anyone else you’re devoted to. Do all your loves know how much you adore them? Tell them. Tell them the day you know it and every day thereafter. Don’t wait for Valentine’s Day. There are many ways to love and be loved; don't devalue them. So if, this February 14th, you aren’t ensconced on a pink-scented cloud of romantic bliss, take heart. Chances are, you are loved.