This post is also available as a podcast here: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/s-p01/episodes/A-Valentines-Day-Post-e2fpmff

This is an extra post, because there are some things in it that I wanted to get out. I went to the store and bought myself a dozen roses and some chocolate covered strawberries this week. I bought the strawberries last year when I was single, too. I like them. I bought them several times over the years, when I was in relationships, and even when I was married. No partner ever got them for me, though. In fact, no partner bought me a dozen roses for Valentine’s day, either. I bought boyfriends flowers. I remember buying a single rose for my first husband for Valentine’s day our first year together when we were dating. I went to a flower shop, picked out a rose, and some garnish to go with it. The florist put it all together so pretty for me, and I added a little card for him. We’d only been dating about a month, but that’s just who I am when I like someone. Did he get me flowers? No. But, he didn’t have to. I liked him, that was enough.

I’m accepting a recent realization about all my relationships: I didn’t get much for romance or appreciation. There wasn’t much “wooing” or the stereotypical romantic gestures. My partners (and I) would dismiss the importance of those things. “Everyone else is getting flowers, chocolates, and going out to dinner. We don’t need that.” That’s a generalization of several similar statements made by my partners over the years. My first husband swapped Valentine’s day for Pi day, we’d do Valentine’s-like things on Pi day, when the restaurants were less packed. He still never got me a dozen roses for Pi day, but I did have a super cute stuffed animal cat, and a few other things.

I never spoke up, though. I never told any of them “hey, no partner has ever made Valentine’s day special for me, and I would really enjoy being spoiled for a day.” In part, this is because of self-beliefs (not feeling “worth it”), and beliefs about them (they would resist, or not be willing to do it). I recognize that the day is somewhat controversial. But, the truth is that my story is similar for my birthdays. No partner ever threw me a party. No partner ever said, “hey, let’s make this day special for you.” I just ended up hiding my birthday from people to avoid being hurt or disappointed.

I’m learning that this is a burden of anxious attachment. I will take what I can get, I don’t ask for more (and I certainly don’t expect it). I’m working on it, though. I’m working to ask for things that I want in relationships. Unfortunately, the dating market here is abysmal. No one wants to be in a relationship on the dating apps. In my experience, they say they do – but then they don’t. They all want “casual”. I always considered myself pretty casual, but not when it comes to dating. I think and feel deeply, and I don’t know how to stop myself from caring about people that way. I’m someone who has always had long relationships. Dating in this environment is devastating because I want to trust everyone and because I’m anxious attached, I’ll take the bare minimum.

I’m healing, though. I’m asking for more than the bare minimum. I’m communicating with potential partners and I’m making consistent efforts to be clear in my needs and not fall into old patterns. I still do, but I’m more aware of my patterns and I’m course-correcting. I still have yet to be with anyone who has been honestly interested in a relationship with me (post-divorce). I still have yet to find anyone willing to invest in me.

I invest too much. I’m working on it. It seems really frustrating and counterintuitive to find that people don’t invest because I invest in them. I like investing in people, I do it in my job ffs. I love to help others succeed and feel good about themselves, and I don’t think that doing that for a partner should make me any less worthy of the same. But, it has. Repeatedly. My relationships ended, in part, because my investment wasn’t returned. I haven’t actually had a partner that invested from the start to make it mutual. I seem to take the first step, make the first investment, and then wake up one day to realize that my needs aren’t even being met. Let alone finding a partner that actually fills me up emotionally. I want that. I want equitable love and support. I want to be with someone who makes me constantly want to invest in them more, not less.

My story this week is about investments.

I had a nana that invested in me (quite literally), every year she was alive after I was born. I hardly have any memories of her. She was my grandpa’s mom, and not even a blood relative. She bought me savings bonds for my birthday every year. They’ve been a memento of her for me my whole life. My mom kept the envelope of them in a filing cabinet when I was growing up and I used to look at them with an awe, but also confusion. It’s hard for a child to understand the longterm investment of a savings bond.

I can’t explain it, but I knew she loved me through that action. These were things we were saving until they reached maturity (I still have most of them.) 30 years, then they stop accruing interest. I’ve held onto them so long that I honestly didn’t want to cash any of them. I finally did this year. Money is tight as a single parent in an expensive place to live. So, I tucked the cash away for anything that might be out of our usual expenses. It isn’t much, just a few hundred dollars. But, I didn’t want to lose track of something that has held so much meaning to me my whole life.

Things in this world are not that important, but people are. That gift was so abstract to me as a kid, but it holds more meaning for me today than most other gifts because it was a longterm investment in me. It was an action that had forethought and care because, as a kid, I wasn’t going to need the money for much. Toys? Candy? Frivolous. I’d get toys for my birthday elsewhere. But, 30 years later? It could help me buy new tires for my car, so I’m safe on the road. It could help me replace or repair appliances in my home. It could help me stay afloat in a month that I’m struggling. Which is more important? I hope my answer is obvious.

Find people in this world willing to invest in you, whom you are also willing to invest in. We thrive in that community and we find love in it. On a holiday so filled with flowers and chocolate, enjoy it, but also remember that there are things far more important.

Happy Valentine’s Day.

Love, -S.