This is why Valentine's Day is (insert word here)

I am one of those people that is perpetually single. Do I mind? Truth be told, sometimes. Usually I don’t. I love being in relationships; however, I’m alright with being alone. The difference is that I rarely feel lonely. I have amazing friends and family and that being said, I hardly ever feel a lack of love. So it bothers me when people get upset by a day such as Valentine’s. Ever since I was out of elementary, all I’ve ever heard is the following:

“Wahh I need the validation of one day to prove to everyone, including myself, that I’m worthwhile.” (But usually it is masked by temporary feminists who say this: “Valentine’s Day is such a stupid corporate holiday used to generate millions of dollars to prove absolutely nothing.”)

Now if you feel this way, grow up. Who cares? If lovey-dovey couples feel the need to prove to everyone that they’re sickeningly adorable by getting each other fat with aphrodisiacs and 4 million pounds of chocolate on a random day filled with candy hearts and sappy love songs, then so be it. On the other extreme, couples also use this day to have unrealistic expectations. They expect some sweeping exhibition, and when their counterpart fails, they get in a fight. And again, I say, let them! I love it all. All of it shows that we are humans, we have emotions, we have needs. Good or bad, angry or in love, people need each other, and if it takes one “Hallmark Holiday” to remind everyone of that, then I am all for it. 

Now, if my amazing argument didn’t move you, and you are still bitter, just wait until February 15^th. All of the candy goes on sale. Buy your weight in chocolate and eat your emotions. 

 (Look! Now you can feel validated and loved by me!)

P.S. If you are one of those people in the above example that feels that way, just know that you are worthwhile and you are loved. Okay, enough sap. Go eat chocolate and watch 90s Rom-Com movies.

This is why I need to find my MRS. degree

Last year, I took a course called First Year Seminar. Although it was required, you could pick the topic you wanted the class to focus on. I chose the FYS revolving around journaling and tapping into your inner self to find peace. It sounds like a hippie-dippy weird class, but it was actually a lot of fun. For our final project, we were required to write a “book” about ourselves. We could fashion it however we wanted but there were a few requirements regarding the way we wrote our book. This is one of my entries from that time. I wanted to post it because in retrospective, it’s pretty hilarious. I don’t hold all of these opinions anymore, but the core of the piece still remains true:

 (This is me from Freshmen year, pretending to be a turtle. As you can tell, I've just changed oh so much.)

I WANT A FAMILY!! There, I said it. When you ask kids what they want to do when they grow up, they’ll say things like a doctor, a fireman, a ballerina. I changed my mind constantly. I never knew what I wanted to do. The one thing that remained constant was my need for a husband and babies. I think I admired my parents and the way I was being raised. I know that my call in life is to be a loving wife and mother. If I could major in that, then I’d be set. Too bad they don’t offer MRS degrees anymore (as in Home-Ec degrees). I wasn’t supposed to be born now; I was meant to live in the ‘50s, prime housewife time. 

Okay so my whole life I haven’t been as upfront about my incessant need for a family. In fact, you could have called me a closet housewife envier. I mean, honestly, you can’t be in 8^th grade looking for your future spouse. I guess reality struck me like a hard household appliance when I came to college. I realized that I actually went to school with MARRIED COUPLES. Those jerks. I’m happy for their happiness, of course, but at the same time I envy them so much. On top of going to school with married couples, the course work is just ridiculously difficult. I have no idea what I want to do with my life, just find my husband.

It used to be a healthy obsession. It used to be something I would eventually gain in life. Now it’s like I see a baby or small child and my uterus aches for the lack of fetus in there. I’m not creepy, I promise. I’M JUST SO MAD. I suppose I could just have a baby with any ol’ person; but that’s not what I want. I want to meet the man of my dreams, fall madly in love, and then have babies in a loving environment. My mom always tells me I’m too young to be worrying this much now. And I agree. But it’s different. Not many people understand that just because I make a huge deal out of it does not mean I want to quit the life I have now and run away with an old Spanish millionaire because he’s feeling lonely and I’m getting desperate. 

My heart is broken. I describe it as a large hole in my heart, and it won’t be complete until my call in life is complete. I guess the waiting is the hard part. It’s hard to be patient when I very much know what I want in life. People think I’m crazy. Maybe just a little bit. But recently I discovered how ridiculous I was acting. So now I’m trying to just enjoy life and let it play out, but I know even if I enjoy life now, eventually I will feel that need again. It’s my calling. It’s what I’m meant to do. Hopefully when the record spins around again, the song will be different. I mean, I am already eighteen, time’s a ticking!