So being single on Valentine’s Day wasn’t that bad this year. I know you are completely shocked to hear that from me considering how much I typically lament about my super singleness. And to tell the truth, I have publicly declared on many occasions that “I’m anti-Valentine’s Day,” which in retrospect could not have made it more obvious how desperately I wanted a Valentine to call my own. But this year, thankfully, felt different. It seemed somehow that I was set up for success from the get go.
Success #1: Valentine’s Day was on a Sunday
A Sunday Valentine’s was completely ideal. No one got flowers at work or asked about me plans (or lack thereof). I didn’t have to go out on Friday or Saturday and see doe-eyed couples galore. Honestly, it barely felt like Valentine’s Day at all. Hallelujah.
Success #2 My roommates are both in long distance relationships
Both Miss H and Miss PoliSci have boyfriends, which is a little weird because last year for Valentine’s Day we went out together as a posse of single girls and had a complete blast. The idea of sitting on the couch watching the Olympics while they got ready for fancy dates with their boys sort of made me miserable. Lucky for me, both of them were heading out of town for the weekend so I didn’t have to watch them head off for romance.
Success #3 I made plans
I knew that even though Miss H and Miss PoliSci wouldn’t be around, staying at home watching TV with the dogs would be potentially dangerous to my mental health. So in my infinite wisdom, I offered to watch my hilarious nephew on Saturday night so my sister and brother-in-law could go on their own Valentine’s date. Taking care of a highly active two-year-old is more than enough to push away any potential pity party. The nephew and I ate some Pei Wei and watched the Olympics — kind of my ideal Valentine’s Day to be honest. Plus, he hooked me up with a sweet Pez dispenser as my V-Day gift. Win, win.
Success #4 I gave it a rest
I pretty much constantly obsess over who/when I will meet “the One.” Part of it is out of excitement/anticipation/joy at the surprises, but part of the obsession stems from fear/desperation/loneliness/anxiety. Sick, I know. But a couple of weeks ago at church, the message was about making God your “the One” and your spouse/future spouse the Two. The minister prayed for the single people to seek God as the One and rely on Him to provide the Two. I found so much comfort in this idea and have been trying to think about my love life differently. I’ve tried to focus on working on myself in preparation for the eventual meeting of my Two. So far the change in thought process has helped. That’s not to say I haven’t been wondering about my Two — what his name is, how we’ll meet, etc. — but the wondering feels a little healthier than it did a few weeks ago and that is definitely a good thing.
You can check out the sermon about making God the One and your significant other the Two here:
Surviving another Valentine’s Day alone was gratifying. I didn’t die. I didn’t cry. The world didn’t come crashing to a halt. But somehow being more successful at managing my loneliness is almost sad in a way. Is deciding to be okay with it or at least not miserable in it in a way resigning myself to it? Obviously, wanting to not be alone cannot rule my life (and I really hope it doesn’t!) but at the same time deciding it isn’t horrible scares me too. Then again, maybe deciding being single isn’t the worst thing in the world is the best thing for me right now.