The Dirty Thirty: Valentine’s, Disappointments, Complaining, and Confidence

Valentine’s Day. What a perfect day to spit some girl talk on you. It’s a day that is designed to make you feel like shit. I’m spending Valentine’s Day with my girlfriends. Now, don’t get me wrong, I’ve got options. Let me tell you honey, I gots me some OPTIONS. A very good looking and surprisingly nice guy that I’m currently dating asked me to dinner for Valentine’s Day, but I politely declined. I was so excited to NOT do Valentine’s, I couldn’t believe he was trying to take that from me. Meanwhile, he was probably just trying to get some and I assured him that he can get it on Friday instead of Thursday, because I’ve got a plan and there are no penis’ invited.

See, as a mature thirty year old, I love getting to face the things that terrified me in my twenties. These are some things that haunt you in your twenties: Shame. Guilt. Panic. Insecurity. Competitiveness. More panic. More shame. More insecurity. More guilt. And then this glowing hand reaches out of the sky at midnight, the very moment you turn thirty, and it whispers in your ear, “Everything is FINE. You need to fucking relax.” And for the first time ever, you’re like, nothing is really THAT big of a deal. If I could have calmed down a little in my twenties, maybe taken myself less seriously, I’d be running a studio by now. Or at least be married to someone who does.

While everyone is so afraid of being alone on Valentine’s Day, I really think it makes you feel worse when you’re in a relationship than when you’re single. Contrary to what you’ve been told, men don’t hate this holiday because they hate romance. Please, they know for sure that they’re getting some on V-Day. They know it’s the one day you might actually wear something slutty to bed instead of your plaid boxers and an oversized vintage shirt that was previously owned by a man named Chuck who actually understood the meaning of what is being advertised on the front of it. The reason they DON’T like this day is because nothing they do is good enough. Nothing. Your expectations are not based in real life. And no matter how hard they try to get a good understanding of what we want from them on this day, we will not tell them the truth because, “IF YOU CAN’T COME UP WITH IT ON YOUR OWN, THEN I DON’T KNOW WHAT TO TELL YOU!” We prepare ourselves to be disappointed. Most of the time, there really is nothing they can do that will be good enough, because they’re human and we think that’s boring. So, we just wait for them to mess it up. And they do. And it’s sad to watch. But you have to realize that you have someone who is willing to keep trying even though they know you secretly hate them, and that’s REAL romance. Like, I would never do that for someone. So, stop complaining. It was your job to complain in your twenties, it was almost cute.

But in your thirties your job is to get over it. Don’t let the holiday win. Be the cool chick you pretend to be when you first meet someone and you’re like, “OMG I’ll have the burger and make it rare. I love the taste of red meat.” Just pretend to be her for a moment because this poor guy thought he was falling in love with that girl, not the mess you turned into. But now he thinks he needs you (which is well played on your part) and so he can’t leave. So just lay off on this one day that guys would rather sleep through, than get a blow job. And that’s not something they’re turning down easily.

So, back to me having a girls only Valentine’s Day. Personally, I’m thrilled about it. I have no shame anymore (I’m very similar to the dad in Shameless). I used to be embarrassed by everything. I used to not want to admit things I thought I would be judged on. I used to wait to see how the person wanted me to answer a question before I answered it. I think my life was really ruled by the people around me and what I anticipated them wanting. But times they are a changin’. I recently had a sexual encounter and the strangest thing happened afterwards. I realized that at no point in this sexual experience did I feel self conscious. Not once did I get nervous about a part of my body I don’t like, or worry that he was focusing on it. And it’s not like those flaws I have were gone, it’s just that I didn’t care anymore. I was like, wait a second, I look good! And I don’t care if he saw something that isn’t perfect, I’m okay with that. Because it’s all about the whole package, and my whole package KILLS. And so does yours.

It’s not easy finding someone you like. And I know that I would much rather be alone than with some douche-bag who drives a convertible. It seems to be impossible at this point to have a crush on someone that at least one of your friends doesn’t have an embarrassing story about. Like, you meet someone and you think, wow this guy seems really normal, and he has so much hair, maybe he could be my husband. And then you mention to your friend how you’ve got a date with Michael from the marketing department next week and she’s like, “Oh yeah, Michael is sweet. You’ll have fun. Did you know that he auditioned to be on The Bachelor three years ago?” And then your world comes crashing down. You obviously can not marry someone who auditioned to be on The Bachelor. Um… and wasn’t even picked. So, just stay home and don’t settle and be happy you’re not with that loser. Does any of this make sense? I honestly can’t tell.


Image via someecards

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