Valentine's Day
Feb. 14th, 2005 01:27 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
aamusedinatxHere it is again, the most hyped holiday of the year. I have sent my ecards...will meet the primary for coffee, kisses, and chocolate, and yet. I really, really, don't like this holiday.
My kindergarten year of school, I came home with the list of classmates, male and female. My mother helped me fill out the cards, the envelopes. I took a shoebox to school and covered it with pink and red construction paper. On the day of the classroom Valentine's party, I was deathly ill. I'd been up all night throwing up.
I was sick every Valentines from then until 9th grade.
I couldn't face the knowledge that everyone got valentines from everyone eles in such a forced and artificial way. I dreaded that holiday above all others while I was in school.
Odd, after all this time, I've never quite gotten over it.
So these days, when I have men who sincerely love me, for all my good and bad bits, and whose company I find peaceful, relaxing and fulfilling, I celebrate in a low key way. I send an e-card. I write a memory of a recent trist. And I remember that scared, knotted-up, insecure, and alone little girl.
And I wonder when she'll ever feel grown up and confident.
My kindergarten year of school, I came home with the list of classmates, male and female. My mother helped me fill out the cards, the envelopes. I took a shoebox to school and covered it with pink and red construction paper. On the day of the classroom Valentine's party, I was deathly ill. I'd been up all night throwing up.
I was sick every Valentines from then until 9th grade.
I couldn't face the knowledge that everyone got valentines from everyone eles in such a forced and artificial way. I dreaded that holiday above all others while I was in school.
Odd, after all this time, I've never quite gotten over it.
So these days, when I have men who sincerely love me, for all my good and bad bits, and whose company I find peaceful, relaxing and fulfilling, I celebrate in a low key way. I send an e-card. I write a memory of a recent trist. And I remember that scared, knotted-up, insecure, and alone little girl.
And I wonder when she'll ever feel grown up and confident.
