Cease Valentine’s Day complaints

Cease Valentine’s Day complaints

By Stephanie Youssef

With the recent increase in sappy, televised jewelry commercials, heart-shaped chocolates and expensive bouquet arrangements at local markets, it is easy to notice that Valentine’s Day is quickly approaching. What began as the feast day of the patron saint of love, is now the day when radio stations play love songs, when florists feel the pain of working retail and when couples make plans to celebrate their love. 

And with the rise in flower sales and Barry White on the radio comes the inevitable surge of complaints from haters who resent Valentine’s Day. You hear these grumbles and gripes from a variety of people of all genders and sexualities everywhere you go: 

“I’m throwing a Galentine’s Day party because I’m independent and strong and don’t need a relationship.”

“I don’t participate in it because it’s just a Hallmark holiday that manipulates shoppers into spending more money.”

“I’m glad I’m single because I don’t have to spend money buying a girl chocolates.” 

“I’m going to die alone with a bunch of cats.”

In the past, I have participated in the attempted verbal assault on Valentine’s Day (I’m the perpetually single cat lady), yet I can’t help but feel that as maturing adults we should make more humble efforts to rise above the unnecessary complaints.

It isn’t easy to ignore the sickly sweet smell of candy hearts at the market when shopping for groceries. But verbally emphasizing the fact that you don’t partake in consumerism — as if Valentines’ Day is the only holiday manipulated by companies and advertisers to emphasize gifting and gluttony — is ineffective.

As an adult, to prove your aversion to the marketing ploys, you should ignore the aisles of pink and red, pick up your groceries and ditch the middle school hissy fit. In trying to concede that you pay no mind to the frivolousness of marketing, any complaining disproves your argument.

Some may argue that Valentine’s Day adds pressure on people who are single because of the emphasis it puts on relationships. In reaction, people either combat this pressure by professing what little the holiday means to them or by wallowing in self-pity and collecting furry felines. 

Those who outspokenly profess their mental strength in an attempt to persuade others (and probably themselves) of their independence come off as artificial, try-hard and unconvincing. 

I find it amusing that these individuals fail to recognize the hypocrisy in the equivalent of shouting “I don’t care” through a megaphone. If you really aren’t affected by Valentine’s Day, prove it by not talking about it. The fact that you feel the need to brag about your “I don’t need a relationship” mentality reveals a false sense of security. The very act of bringing it up defies your point.

On the other hand, those who complain that being single on Valentine’s Day in college equates to a life of perpetual isolation have an absurdly inflated sense of struggle. It is a rather ridiculous and rushed assertion that as barely 20 year olds, we should already have our personal lives completely figured out. 

You are not the only 20-something who is single on Feb. 14. Unless you wake up every day basking in misery about your relationship status (or lack thereof), treat Valentine’s Day like any other day. Complaining does nothing but make you and those around you miserable.

Overall, the solution to the futile time-waster that is complaining is quite simple: Don’t do it. 

If you are against Valentine’s Day, great, keep it to yourself. Trying to tear down the holiday because it doesn’t apply to you is the pinnacle of arrogance. The Saturday celebrations are going to ensue regardless of your attempts.

I could continue and write a whole dissertation on the subject of “why nobody should complain about anything ever because it is unproductive,” but for the sake of brevity we can end this on the subject of Valentine’s Day and call it part one. Baby steps.

Stephanie is a junior in LAS. She can be reached at [email protected]