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Still Hate It

15/2/2019

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Good morning, Readers!
Picture
This awesome piece is by deviantart.com user Orioto. They've got other really awesome pieces you should check out (click the image).
So, this is the post that I would have put up yesterday, if I had posted Wednesday.  Instead, I'm playing catch-up.  So, this is my would-be Valentine's Day post.

I hate Valentine's Day.

Those who have followed me for a while will know this about me.  I hate it.  Always have.

I've matured a little bit.  I mean, sort of.  I'm older anyway.  I no longer resent those who revel in today, even though I do think it's the stupidest day of the year.  I still hate today.

After much unpacking, I know that my hatred of this day began when I was a young tween.  This was before I realised that I was demisexual, that asexuality was even a thing and that I was on that spectrum.  I hated Valentine's Day, because it called out the fact that I didn't have anyone, and didn't particularly want anyone, and that I was the only one in the whole world like me.  Single people were generally pitied or looked down on on Valentine's Day.  It made me seem even more of a freak that I felt, and despite not wanting anyone, it also made me feel so utterly lonely.  I hated it all, and despised the 'sheeple' who 'mindlessly' celebrated it.

It also, I felt, invalidated the love I did feel.

The focus on romantic love pissed me off.  It still does.  It glorifies one type of love only, and recognition for and the importance of other kinds of love were downplayed and cast aside.  This seems to me have had a knock-on effect.  Love other than the romantic variety is largely devalued in society in general, not just on Valentine's Day, and powerful loving bonds are ignored or questioned if you aren't also boinking the person with whom you have such a bond.

That's some serious horse shit, right there.

You don't have to be screwing someone to experience a fierce love for them.  I love my friends.  I would go to war for my friends.  I have in the past bared my fangs on behalf of friends, and will do so again.  And that love is all the more true because I'm not concerned that their returning love is dependent upon a hope to one day get me in the sack (most of my male friends are very much taken).  I don't have to fear abandonment from friends because of a lack of sex, because this love is not dependent on it.  These bonds are true and strong and without strings attached.

The pain from the breaking of these bonds is also very real.  It's still heartbreak, and it's some of the worst pain I've ever felt.  Just because I wasn't bumping uglies (how many euphemisms for sex do you think I can come up with?) with them doesn't mean that when that friendship dissolved in flames and fury that I wasn't absolutely distraught (it was abusive, and it's a good thing we're no longer friends, but at the time it was the ending of my world).

Every Valentine's Day, I'm reminded how little society values love that doesn't involve sex (I've run out of euphemisms after all), and how many people cannot seem to grasp how deep and true that love truly is.

My hatred of Valentine's Day remains, and likely will never be remedied.  While I think lovers should celebrate their love, I also think that we as a society need to recognise and celebrate those other kinds of love; the kinds that won't result in marriage and children, and we all need to learn to value them far more than we do.

So, enjoy your Valentine's or whatever.  I'll be over here, happily single and very much loved.

​Ciao!
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    S.M. Carrière, a Celtic Studies enthusiast, writes fiction.  And this blog.

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