By Samantha Wassel of Between the Monkey Bars
Love. Teddy bears. Chocolate. Pink and red. Flowers. Little heart-shaped chunks of chalk stamped with hollow affirmations. A vertically-challenged, Hitler-approved Aryan in a diaper threatening to physically accost passersby with a bow and arrow.
It’s time to put a stop to this bullshit.
As a self-proclaimed introverted philophobiac who believes in neither love nor candy, I am personally offended when someone wishes me a “Happy Valentine’s Day.” Or says, “I love you.” Or, “Hi!”
In fact, I don’t even like it when people glance in my general direction.
I just want to be able to spend my February 14th in comforting, self-loathing isolation without having to worry about some insensitive jackass sending me flowers, candy, or warm and fuzzy feelings. Is that too much to ask?
The truth of the matter is that Valentine’s Day is nothing but a politically incorrect, sugar-coated social construct created to shame those of us who just want to be left the fucking fuck alone. Not everyone believes in love, and “celebrating” a “holiday” in the name of it makes a lot of people—including myself—super uncomfortable.
And the children, my God (or whatever other deity you choose to believe or not believe in), think of the fucking children. In schools across America, impressionable youths are being coerced into handing out little rectangles crafted from murdered trees, scrawled with sappy sentiments they probably don’t even fully understand the meaning of. They’re practically being fucking brainwashed. And you know those dead tree cards are bound to offend the environmentally-conscious population.
I think Starbucks has even come out with heart-adorned tumblers in honor of Valentine’s Day. I mean, what the fuck are they thinking? What if someone with a heart condition sees that shit? Do you think they want to be reminded of their pulmonary shortcomings? I mean, I bet just seeing that garbage is enough to stop a heart-diseased individual’s ticker right on the spot.
Not to mention the diabetics. Wishing a diabetic a “Happy Valentine’s Day” is basically the equivalent of saying, “Happy Fucked-Up Pancreas Day; sorry you can’t enjoy any of the overpriced-but-delectable chocolates lining grocery store shelves during this time of year.”
They deserve better. We all deserve better. And I really deserve better. Because I enjoy playing the victim, engaging in attention-seeking behaviors, and spearheading a self-aggrandizing, attention-seeking movement in the name of “equality.” It makes me feel hip, relevant, and super important. It also plays really well on social media. And I’ve got to keep my online persona looking good.
So instead of spreading love or STDs this Valentine’s Day, please join me in spreading my personal agenda. #NoMoreValentinesDay #BoycottLove #TimeForChange #Equality #FollowMeOnInsta #MeMeMeMeMe
About the Author
Samantha Wassel is a sarcastic and slightly unhinged SAHM to three energetic boys and three lazy AF cats. She enjoys running, writing, kettlebelling, reading, nerding out, and eating exorbitant amounts of goat cheese and Peanut Butter Halo Top ice cream (but not together, because barf). You can find more of her work at Between the Monkey Bars.