Columns, Opinion

WILSHERE: Celebrate all love on Valentine’s Day

The first person to say it to me was my Uber driver. The next was my mom, then my best friends. The last time I said it was nervously at 11:58 p.m. after an emotionally taxing day to the guy that had been on my mind. It was “Happy Valentine’s Day,” and each time I said it, the words held a different weight. I was indifferent toward my Uber driver, happy toward my mom, elated toward my best friends and a little apprehensive toward the guy. Valentine’s Day, for those who, like myself, are single, is a holiday most notable for pointing out that we are single. It should not be this way.

On Valentine’s Day, there is so much pressure to acknowledge the status of your relationship, or in some cases, the lack thereof. One look on Instagram on Feb. 14 shows a clear divide between those who seem happy in their relationship and those who are single. Sometimes referred to as “Singles Awareness Day,” Valentine’s Day is either celebrated or ignored. Either you are in a relationship and loving it, or you are single and are supposed to be drowning yourself in ice cream and tears while watching “The Notebook.”

This year, my Valentine’s Day went a little against form, as I spent the weekend with more than 600 of my closest friends at sorority recruitment. As my sisters and I endured early mornings, long days and late nights with contoured faces and high heels, I realized my Valentine’s Day was not spent in vain. I did not mourn my singleness like I had in previous years, nor did I gorge myself on chocolates in an attempt to feel “better” about my lack of a “boo thang.”

Instead, I celebrated.

I celebrated those around me who have consistently shown me love, who have supported me in my decisions to wear heels too high or to send a risky text late in the night. These women are my sisters, my best friends and now thanks to Drake’s lyricism, they’re my “right hand,” and my “go-to”.

I did not stop to think about the absence of a boyfriend in my life because I was surrounded by the love of my sisters. Valentine’s Day should be a celebration of every type of love, whether it is self-love, platonic love, familial love or romantic love.

We shouldn’t dedicate just one day to telling the people we care about that we care about them. We should not pressure those who are in relationships to overexert themselves by spending copious amount of money and we also should not pressure those who are single to be upset with their situations.

Being in a relationship is nice, but so is being single. Both should be celebrated in their own way instead of being compared to one another. Whether you are in a relationship or single, you are loved. That should be the focus of Valentine’s Day.

For those who are in relationships, there shouldn’t be a great expectation to celebrate in the most grandiose way and spend as much money as one can on chocolates, cards and oversized stuffed animals. For those who are single, there shouldn’t be an expectation for to wallow in sadness and listen to Adele for the whole day, however amazing her new album is. Valentine’s Day should be a celebration of self, and it should be a celebration of the love we surround ourselves with every day.

Love is a sensation that cannot be monetized. It cannot be bought or sold, traded or bartered. Love should be celebrated as frequently as it can, and it should be celebrated in whichever way seems fit. If celebrating your love means take-out Pad Thai and binge watching old seasons of “Game of Thrones” with your boo, that’s what you should do. If celebrating your love means brunch with your best friends, that’s what you should do.

I do believe that love surrounds us every day, and we should take the time to celebrate that love as much as we can. If you are single like me, take the time to recognize the presence of love, not the absence of a significant other. To quote a movie that showcased Liam Neeson’s sweater-wearing abilities and the realistic probability that Hugh Grant could be the prime minister, “Love actually is all around.”

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Meredith loves telling stories and pretending to be Carrie Bradshaw, minus the man and comfy NYC apartment. She, however, eats enough brunch to cover all six seasons. When she's not drowning in 16th-century literature, she can be found lamenting over the bad grammar and bad boys in her middle school diary.
Find her on twitter @merewilsh or email her mwilsher@bu.edu with all your love musings or questions.

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