Valentine’s Day is approaching, and I am proud of my new state of mind.
At first, I was surprised, I wondered if I was pretending to feel good when Valentine’s days are always filled with gloom and what could have been.
Valentine’s Day used to be the worst day of all the celebratory days in the year. From denying that I enjoy receiving gifts to wishing I could use the angry reaction on social media posts of couples Valentine-ing.
I feared that I had stopped believing in love. That you had broken me beyond repair.
I remember the first Valentine’s Day we spent together—you showed up at my office with flowers, that silly oversized teddy bear, and a box of chocolates. That day, I felt our love was sealed. You who said you didn’t believe in Valentine, went out of your way to make me feel special. I was the talk of the office for the rest of that February.
When you ended things, February 14th became a day of gloom. I decided I didn’t believe in gifts or love because I was afraid to expect any Valentine’s special treatment t from anyone. I was also afraid of love.
Every Valentine’s Day, the world drowned in red roses and love songs, while I drowned in memories of us. I decided the whole Valentine’s celebration was a commercial scam. I rolled my eyes at couples posting pictures online and spent the day pretending it didn’t exist. But the truth? The truth was that Valentine’s Day made me feel forgotten. It reminded me that you had moved on, that love had moved on, and I was still stuck in the wreckage of what we once were.
But something is different this year.
Maybe it’s the work I’ve done on myself. Maybe it’s time. Maybe it’s that I’m finally ready to admit that Valentine’s Day was never the problem—you were. Or rather, my attachment to what we had, was.
This year, I don’t hate Valentine’s Day. I see it for what it is—a day about love. And love, I am learning, is bigger than romance.
This year, I’m celebrating love in all its forms. I am celebrating love for my friends, who held me together when I fell apart. I am celebrating love for my family, who remind me I am worthy, even when I forget. I am celebrating love for the stranger who smiles at me in the grocery store, the barista who remembers my coffee order, and the world that continues to give me new chances.
Most of all, I am celebrating love for myself.
I am my own Valentine this year and I will buy myself a gift. I will also go out for a solo dinner, buy myself flowers, and treat myself the way I once wished someone else treated me.
For the first time in years, I’m not hating on February 14th. I know I won’t have that familiar wave of sadness nor will I be scrolling social media, hating on happy strangers. Because this year, my love is enough.
So, dear ex-boyfriend, I don’t hate Valentine’s Day anymore.
I hope, wherever you are, you’ve found a love that fills you up in all the right ways. And I hope you know that I have too—just not the kind I once thought I needed.
Your Ex-Girlfriend
- Dear Ex-Boyfriend” is a fictional relationship column written by Ese Walter, reflecting on past experiences with a fictional ex. Readers are encouraged to share their own stories by submitting letters for possible publication. Submissions can be sent to esewalter@gmail.com
