Am I bitter that this is my second year in a row writing about how I’m bitter on Valentine’s Day? Absolutely not. I guess. Whatever.
A better question would be: should I be bitter? To which I respond with a resounding “no!”
(Josh Shettler/CU Independent Illustration)
This is not one of those “there are plenty of fish in the sea” or “everything happens for a reason, so just give it time” type of articles. Nor is it a torrential downpour of hate for anyone with heart eyes and a dinner reservation this Feb. 14. This is a celebration of you—Dollar Store noisemakers and all—and an apathetic wave buh-bye to anyone too cool to toot that horn for you.
If there is nobody in your life who will, not only willingly, but enthusiastically suck up the chip crumbs that have fallen on your sweatshirt during your four hour “Parks and Recreation” marathon, then be glad you respect yourself enough to not let any old loser into your life. Enjoy the extra chip leftovers, judgment-free.
If you have yet to meet someone who doesn’t crinkle their nose when you order guac, both on your burrito and on the side, then write an ode to avocados and consider yourself lucky that you have nobody to hold you back from your guacamole dreams.
It’s your world, and we’re all just living in it. If nobody has entered your life that’s worthy of your undeniable exquisiteness, then keep being one of a kind. You’re not a DNA strand; you’re not some horrible mutation without a partner to double helix with you. On a side note, if Double Helix becomes the next big dance craze, I’m taking full responsibility.
It’s fine that few appreciate my poorly constructed scientific analogies because I dig them, so who cares? In order to avoid a Valentine’s Day funk, you must release the wealth of knowledge you brain has stockpiled over the years containing everything awesome you’ve ever done or said and relish in your wonderfulness much like you would a new crush.
People take a day intended to stress couples out over who can make the cuter card and turn it into some glaring declaration that nobody loves them. Not only is this not cool, but it’s simply not true! I could go on with cliché sentiments about how your friends and family put up with you on a daily basis, so they obviously love you, but they’re not the only ones. You’re forgetting the most important one: yourself.
I don’t mean to be all “let’s eat sugar cookies shaped like rainbows and hug ourselves,” but—actually, yes I do. What’s so wrong with that? Why do people think it’s stupid to like who you are as a human being? This V-Day, tell yourself that you think you’re the cat’s pajamas and treat yourself like the love of your life—which you basically are for as long as you live.
This week, and always, we must channel our inner-Beyonce and understand that if nobody is brave enough to step up to the plate and adore us the way we deserve, find all our quirks endearing, and all that other gross stuff, then, frankly, I don’t think they’re ready for this jelly.
Contact CU Independent Opinions Editor Lizzy Hernandez at Elizabeth.hernandez@colorado.edu.
