The Heart Blitzkrieg
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It was the middle of January when I received my first Valentine’s Day spam message. Despite my annoyance with my spam filters, this was a welcome intrusion—after all, I seldom remember Valentine’s in time, which makes for the haphazard crafting of sexy cards the morning of the 14th. Assuming I have an object of interest, of course. Otherwise, the heart blitzkrieg all around only serves to remind me how lucky I am to be free of the obligation.
An obligation is exactly what Valentine’s Day has become to a lot of us. And it’s not just an obligation to give a gift. For some of us who’re single, it’s a clear reminder that we’ve failed in our obligation to couple up.
“Valentine’s Day is a psychological aggression,” says my friend, psychologist de rigueur Madison Braune, 47. “One: it’s a torture to singles. Two: it creates the illusion that relationships must always have the intensity of romances. Let me tell you something—when you’ve been married twenty years, you’re not going to be as excited about showing up at your wife’s office with a bouquet of flowers and a poem the way you were excited about it when you were first dating. You have a life together and celebrate your union in different ways. It’s not the death of romance, it’s evolution into something else that’s wonderful and wholly yours. Sadly many couples today feel forced to do something that isn’t genuine simply because it’s demanded by growing consumerist trends.
“Worse still, people rarely give gifts privately. Candies show up in lockers and flowers in offices, reinforcing the notion that these gestures must be made. It’s damaging: one day’s effort should not be the barometer of the strength of a relationship.”
It’s a no-brainer. Yet if it’s so logical, why do we still feel that the holiday says something about our relationships, or, if we’re single, about us? How did we get into this mess?
V-Day: A Brief History
According to Funk & Wagnalls, it’s likely the holiday originated with Lupercalis, a Roman feast to ensure the fertility of cattle that developed into a celebration involving public exposure and playful whipping and swinger party-style hook-ups.
Pope Gelasius I eventually put an end to the nonsense, declaring February 14 the feast of St. Valentine and abolishing Lupercalis. Unfortunately for him, its correlation with successful couplings reared its head again in the Middle Ages: St. Valentine, according to legend, was martyred for helping Roman soldiers get married when this was strictly forbidden!
The Catholic Church no longer considers St. Valentine’s an official holiday. I’m tempted to say Lupercalis won and close with kinky well-wishes, but then I remember that, ugh, I still have no gift for my fiancé. Who am I kidding? Neither side’s won. History’s been buried under so many marketing campaigns that no one even remembers who St. Valentine was. Then again, this holiday changed in time to suit different interests, and who’s to say we can’t change it again and liberate ourselves of this martyrdom?
