By Robin Kaye
I’m a romance writer. I live, eat and breathe romance—especially when I’m on deadline. But in my life, I can’t say that Valentine’s Day has been anything but anti-climactical. (Is that a word? If it’s not, I choose to make it one. That’s one of the perks of being a writer.)
When I was single, Valentine’s Day was the equivalent of a ticking time bomb. I felt extreme pressure to get a date, a boyfriend, and/or a love life. Once I did get one of the above, then I felt pressure to buy just the right gift and/or card. This was always tricky because it was dependent upon what stage the relationship was in on February 14th. Now, I don’t know about you, but my relationship stage knowledge was invariably flawed. Should I buy a card with the ‘L’ word on it? Should I get one about sex? Friendship? Or just go with the funny card to be safe? Then there was the whole gift question. How would he feel about a pair of white silk boxers with red lips all over them? Would he like flowers? Chocolate? Or should I just go, depending on the stage of the relationship, buy myself a sexy nighty and call it good? Quantum physics seemed like playing shoots and ladders compared to buying a Valentine’s Day present for the man in my life.
Did Valentine’s Day get easier after marriage? Yes, probably because my husband and I look at it the same way. We figure that if you have to go all out one day a year to prove you love the person you’re sharing your life with, then you’re not doing your job the other 364 days of the year.
I’m very lucky. I have everything I’ve ever wanted. I have a loving husband, a comfortable home, three amazing children and a career I adore. I try never to leave my husband and children without a hug, a kiss and an I Love You. I’d much rather my husband come home with flowers on any other day of the year just because he thought I’d like them. I’d rather he bring me coffee every morning and wake me with a kiss then buy me a three-karat diamond for Valentine’s Day and not treat me like a treasure every other day of the year. But since he does treat me like a treasure and there’s nothing wrong with dreaming, if he had a lot of extra cash and picked up a nice diamond because he thought I’d like it, I wouldn’t ask him to return it—even if it was on Valentine’s Day.
My wish for you is that every day is Valentine’s Day. If that were true, the world would be a much better place.
What do you want for Valentine’s Day?