Ever since I was old enough to understand the concept of Valentine’s Day, it’s never really delivered for me and I’d truly like to see it banished from the calendar once and for all.
I think the earliest memory I have is when we were at middle school. I was about 12, and the chat in the classroom would inevitably gear up a notch about the week before VDD, varying between excitement about whether Andy in Red Team would send one of us anything, and us gals practising how to disguise our handwriting so that we could send a card to Andy without him realising it was any of us (although when you think about it, we desperately wanted him to know it was one of us, so that he could return the favour, stride over and sweep us off our feet but such were the vagaries of schoolgirl logic).
Now, to put this into context, Andy was a true heart throb; flowing locks falling way below the regulation collar length and a savoir-faire that you couldn’t possibly manufacture. He was gorgeous, confident, smiley and had the most amazing blue eyes. Think George Michael at the age of about 12.
I fancied him like mad but was too shy to speak to him and anyway, we all knew that he fancied Lesley who was equally gorgeous so I, a gangly giraffe with all the elegance of Bambi on ice, was really ‘punching’. However, I plotted and planned how to leave an anonymous card in his desk (yes, those were the days when we still had our own desks) and desperately hoped that I would get one in mine. Realistically, I had 2 hopes – Bob Hope and No Hope – yet I hardly slept on the night of the 13th, dreaming that this would be my moment.
On the dawn of the big day itself, I got up early, shone my shoes with extra vigour and was the first one at the meeting point for our ‘gang’ ready for the 2 mile hike to school. (No Chelsea tractors dropping us off at the school gates in those days!)
When we arrived and the school bell rang, allowing us inside, I tore into the classroom and checked out my desk – nada, nowt, nothing. But, I reasoned, as I hadn’t been able to drop his off as it was still nestling in my satchel, he obviously hadn’t been able to drop mine off either, so all was not lost and hope still abounded.
Break time arrived and as everyone else ran out to play, about 4 of us hopefuls hung back waiting for the classroom to empty, and once it had, all 4 of us deposited our cards in Andy’s desk. Then we skipped out to the playground to hang around and discuss whose card he would like most and who would most likely get one from him. The odds were still on Lesley (grrr!)
The next lesson was double maths and this meant that we would all have to open our desks and root for protractors, rulers and rubbers so Andy absolutely had to see his cards. Now being the heart throb he was, he had obviously bagsied the back row with his mates, so we couldn’t easily see his reaction without giving the game away. Never a maths lover, these lessons were long enough, but that one was interminable. Lunchtime arrived at last and none of us Valentines hopefuls were in a hurry to leave, which was most unusual. We wanted to check that he had picked the cards up – he had.
We excitedly scuttled off to the canteen to queue up for our school dinner although most of us were too excited to eat. Andy and his gang were there before us and were chattering loudly about his haul of cards, we desperately tried to ignore them (like you do at 12 years old), but wanted his attention.
After lunch we trouped back into class to pick up our art kit as that was in a different classroom but we all desperately searched our desks and yes, you’ve guessed it, only Lesley had a card. I was still hopefully for an afternoon break time delivery, but again was left disappointed.
When the home time bell came, I’d somehow managed to convince myself that Andy, being so sophisticated, would obviously have posted my card to home. Of course, why hadn’t I thought of that before? I grabbed my brother, who was in the year ahead of me, and dragged him home as fast as I could.
I think we probably got close to a 4-minute mile on that return journey and when I burst through the door, sure enough, there was a red envelope propped up on the kitchen top with what looked like obviously disguised handwriting. My little heart nearly burst, but then horror upon horror, I saw it was addressed to my brother. I nearly cried, but squeezed back the tears, and slammed off to my room claiming a headache.
Now brothers being brothers, mine was as proud of punch and made a point of finding me out to show off. He was sooooooooooo happy and because he fancied nearly all my friends, wanted my help in narrowing down his admirer. I tried to be gracious, but not sure I really carried it off.
Dinner was a very sad affair that night, with our parents trying to cheer me up and dad telling me that he would be my Valentine. I wasn’t to be mollified, so went to bed early and sulked. In fact, I sulked for ages but as you can probably tell, I haven’t let it bother me! 😊
That episode sums up most of my Valentines experiences – hope and expectation beyond reality. Most of the men in my life have viewed it as an artificially induced American commercial import designed to rip them off.
Full disclosure: I have had Valentine’s Day cards and flowers, now and then. But to be honest, most of them either from boyfriends knowing that they should at least make an effort, or from friends posting them to me to be kind.
But….. and it’s a big but, who says, Valentine’s Day should only be celebrated by lovers? Why not friends and families just taking a moment to say ‘you are loved’? And why wait for one nominated day a year to do it? Every day should be a ‘you are loved’ day regardless of your relationship status.
Now, before I finish, there is a happy ending to the schooldays saga. Years later, and I mean 20 odd years later, I was lamenting this school girl Valentines drama with my parents, when mum suddenly admitted that it had been her who had sent my brother his Valentine’s Day card. She had been so sure that I would get a few that she didn’t want my brother to feel left out, so sent him one to balance the scales. She was mortified when she found out it had backfired! We had a great laugh about it and it still makes me smile to this day.
I guess that love really is a 365 day miracle and takes many guises. None of us should need an artificially designed day to tell us to profess our love. So, as this Valentine’s Day approaches, don’t forget to tell your friends and family they are loved and if you are single, don’t forget to administer a bit of self-love too – buy those flowers or the M&S meal deal and celebrate your amazing fabulousness in style!
With love
Julia, AKA Just Me.
