I’ve talked a lot about my love life on this blog.
I’ve written about my broken engagement.
I’ve joked about how much I hate dating. Seriously, I hate dating.
I’m pretty candid about it all.
I’ve also talked a lot about how strongly I believe in finding a relationship with and love for yourself before you can truly be happy with another person.
This is probably my biggest mantra, and the thing I believe in the most.
While I’m on this subject, let me just say – I think Valentine’s Day is pretty ridiculous. Even when I’ve been in relationships on the holiday, I’ve still never been a huge fan.
Like New Year’s Eve, it just gets built up too much and it’s hard to find a way to meet expectations.
In the past, when I found myself single on V-day, I would fit right into the cliche and feel sorry for myself.
In fact, last year I started online dating on Valentine’s weekend. I felt ready for a relationship and frustrated that I wasn’t finding it.
Online dating wasn’t really for me, but I did run across the recent ex through the dating site. We reconnected and started up a relationship.
Even though I downplayed it on the blog, I thought the relationship was going to be really special.
I thought it was fate.
We’d had feelings for each other long ago, but were both in committed relationships and never spoke of it.
Then, we reconnected six years later only to find out we lived within a mile of each other.
Neither of us wanted kids, and agreed that should we ever change our minds we wanted to adopt.
We were both afraid of committment and had similar emotional baggage.
He was my physical type and also extremely smart and funny.
However, it started off rocky and just got rockier. I dare say, he had even more issues than I do. He accused me of cheating constantly (I never came close, he was paranoid), had a huge guard up and had a mean streak.
His good qualities weren’t enough to make up for the bad. So I broke it off.
I was sad, but the break-up awakened something inside me.
I had truly thought that our meeting again was a sign of some sort, and then all of a sudden it was over.
I felt like I was missing the point. I needed to read between the lines.
After several days of crawling into my brain and overthinking my life (I do this often), I realized that maybe I didn’t meet him again to find my soul mate, but to remember certain things about myself.
One thing that struck me about the ex was that he was so unhappy that he’d never moved out of Oklahoma. He’s always wanted to live in Seattle, ever since he was a little boy but he never took the plunge.
Now he’s 32 with a successful career in law and, in his mind, unable to get out.
I didn’t want that to be me.
I’ve also always wanted to move away. To the East Coast. I’ve always wanted to see if I could do it. To find out what I’m really made of.
Thus, the D.C. idea was born.
And, in the process, the relationship I have with myself has grown even stronger.
I love how resilient I am.
I love how willing I am to do what’s hard to get what I want.
I love that even though it would be nice to have a boyfriend, I am choosing what I really want over a relationship I know would not work out in the end. (He tried to rekindle the relationship, then gave me the ultimatum – him or D.C. Seriously, it happened.)
I love that God has a plan for me, and that I’m listening to it instead of just doing what is easy.
And Valentine’s Day seemed to be as good of a time as any to remind myself of those things.
The truth is, no matter who your Valentine is, you have one person to cherish and celebrate today – and that’s YOU.
Corny as it may be, it’s the gosh damn truth.
What’s one (or more) thing you freaking love about yourself? Come on, it’s the Hallmark Holiday of love – when else can you brag about yourself with reckless abandon?!