Goodbye V Day, Hello P Day

How was your V Day aka Vagina Day? (So re-named by me because who else but a Vagina would mandate all that forced romance?) My V Day was unexpectedly triggering. Apparently I really miss being married and in love, but at the same time find almost any level of male attention suffocating. So I have finally become the guys I date. What a relief. Feels so good to be afraid of intimacy at last.

When I was still married V Day was a HUGE deal. I would make a scrapbook for my then-husband with everything we’d done that year including movie ticket stubs, playbill receipts, hospital bracelets (because nothing says romance like a health scare.) The first time I gave him a mini-scrapbook with a love letter in it I was sweating like an expressed beaver anal gland. He was my then-boyfriend, not even my then-fiancé, and the thought of being that vulnerable with an American, after a lifetime of dating unsentimental Australian men, made me feel physically ill. Over the years, the scrapbooks became massive, overwrought affairs, sometimes even digital slideshows, and all day card fests. I had found the most sentimental man in the world, more V than a V could be.

Every year he would take me to dinner and on the table would be an incredible vase with flowers. I would take both home, and he got to take home the V. While I still have the beautiful vases, I’m just grateful the relationship lasted many years longer than the flowers. Clearly we were sickening to everyone but ourselves, but I am so glad I got to experience it all. I believe I may have had my lifetime allotment of romance and my gag reflex tells me I’m okay with that.

I went to my mailbox center to fax something the day before V Day (because who has a fax machine?) and the overly friendly guy behind the counter sang out “Happy Valentine’s.” He then repeated the greeting to another straight male who came in while I was there. Huh? Why was he reminding me about the holiday I no longer celebrate? Why did he feel a need to wish another burly man a good Valentine’s? And why was my kid mandated to make/bring cards for his elementary school classmates, when he just did a “growth and development” class telling him where this love stuff ends up? (i.e. teen pregnancy.)

Nowadays I am suspicious of romance. There are those who court me, but I find myself skeptical. “What does he want?” I ask myself, “He doesn’t even know me.” I have reached that odd stage I always dreaded/looked forward to/never believed possible: I am growing up. I’m becoming an actual adult female and it feels so… weird. Not nearly as dramatic and quite a bit more stable, but don’t worry I’m still somewhat nuts, so there will be plenty to write about. I see clearly that I will never love as naively as I once did. My illusions have been stripped back, and with them the ability to project a fantasy onto another human being. Nobody can save us but us, so from now on, I declare that every day is V Day… and I don’t need a P to tell me that.
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