Valentine's Day is for Suckers

I loathe being the stereotypical bitter female singleton/man hater on Valentine's Day. I’m above this sort of petty jealousy and deep down while I know I might be too cool, that doesn’t mean I’m immune to just how out-of-touch I am with love and all its commercial manifestations.

In your ‘20s, you don’t get real woman cred unless you’re “attached” or reeling from a messy break-up with an a-hole and kvetching about it. I blame it on that tireless Sex & The City trend. They even have shelves at reputable bookstores devoted to "Chic Lit."

But what if you don’t fit neatly in any of these categories?

What if you’re actually really determined to move forward in your professional/creative pursuits and would rather channel all that energy into something remotely constructive? I’ll admit that for a while, I can get lost in my work, but then inevitably my heart starts wanting.

Here’s where God is having a grand laugh at your expense.

The real kicker is that either way you’re unfulfilled somehow. When I’m in a relationship and all of a sudden “in love,” I lack drive and ambition and I'm not ok with this. My writing gets the back burner and I’m secretly stewing about this, brimming with restless ‘me” energy. And when I’m not with someone, I’m bemoaning my loneliness like a thinner, prettier, and more jewish version of Bridget Jones.

I repeat the mantra: I’m not selfish because I want to accrue some level of success with my writing. But I’d be lying to myself if I said it didn’t come with its sacrifices. For a relationship to work, you need a plethora of time and patience. Personally, mine wears thin by the end of the day with the countless responsibilities I’ve assumed.

Article Author: Beth Gottfried

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