I must say I quite enjoy my Valentine-free life. Through a series of fortunate coincidences, I do not celebrate it at all. Never did. See, I grew up in South America where Valentine Day, until less than ten years ago didn’t exist, at all. I was marginally aware of its existence due to my attendance of an Anglo school, but it was never in my radar as a “thing”. Then I moved to The Netherlands where, when I came in (the ‘90s), it wasn’t part of the commercial calendar either. Sure, I had seen mentions of it in my US travels, but it was only that, mentions. I never lived through a proper Valentine Day. The adoption (both in Buenos Aires and here) only started to happen, massively, when I was already in my early 30’s and married.
So, Valentine Day is just something other people do. Sure, I see red hearts and chocolates and some commercials but I have absolutely no emotional connection to the day, like people who have been part of it since birth or early youth.
Which, you know, I am grateful for. I do not need excuses for misery or bickering. I am pretty good at that without the aid of marketing efforts.
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