Valentines in a modern world.
Valentines can be a nice moment to celebrate your partner, and despite the hallmark capitalist undercurrent that you can’t really get away from, Valentines has altered the behaviours of many couples around the globe every February 14th. So, what are our thoughts on Valentines?
Well, I’m single. So this year I suppose it doesn’t mean much to me. But, in previous relationships I don’t remember it ever being hugely important, either. Don’t get me wrong, I absolutely love romance and probably would have melted if my partner whisked me away for a romantic trip, however that’s never been a reality so perhaps I view Valentine's Day through a realist lens rather than a hopeful one.
Before writing this, I canvassed friends on their perception of V Day and we all agreed that while younger versions of ourselves may have put more emphasis on the day, over time we’ve placed less importance on it. Viewing it as a capitalist ploy that promotes consumption, and romanticises spending. One friend said that the day itself isn’t very enjoyable, with restaurants being too crowded and impossible to get a reservation. And with Christmas only just out of sight, the bank balance hasn’t necessarily forgotten.
Despite this, in 2021, 40 million Brits (76%) celebrated Valentines Day, each spending £23 each for a total of £926 million. Everywhere I look I see product marketed for Valentines. Although, I expect that spending might reduce a little this year, with the cost of living crisis and high interest rates - reality might be more important than romance for many, despite the delicious array of chocolate and candy in every shop front.
Even the farm shops are pushing V Day product…
So, is Valentines outdated? I suppose we should ask ourselves should we celebrate coupledom? Let’s forget for a moment the single person's view vs the couple. What about the rise of different relationship types? A recent study said that in the UK a third of hetrosexual couples were open to having more than one spouse or long-term partner, along with 11% of women. Although the study points out that being ‘open to’ and practising non-monogamy are not the same. But in real life, non-hypothetical interest in non-monogamy seems to be on the rise too. Additional studies have shown that one in five people surveyed in the US and Canada have experienced non-monogamy. Not to mention that marriage rates have consistently declined over the past five decades (with the exception of the post-pandemic boom).
Monogamy certainly isn’t close to collapsing - it is still the arrangement that most adults prefer. But in some very measurable ways, the institutions that have traditionally gone with it - marriage and the nuclear family - are failing us. Perhaps that explains the rise in non-traditional family structures emerging with more than two co-parents. However, this certainly isn’t the norm and narratives around this type of family structure are quick to pit them against ‘traditional values’, in a toxic cycle of compare and despair. Mandy Len Catron recently wrote an interesting article on this for the Guardian, where she points out that policy-makers and pundits argue that the two-parent, married family is the solution to any number of social problems - from poverty to happiness. One upcoming book even promises that marriage has the power to ‘save civilization’.
This narrative does its best to mark single people, single parents, divorced adults, unmarried cohabitants, the intentionally child-free and non-monogamous folk as a threat to society. Those who want to save society by saving marriage may be better off considering how fragile these institutions become when we expect them to do the work of an entire community of people. The expectations on our partners has never been higher, despite the rise in our individualist culture where we tend to think of our partners as an extension of ourselves. Those of us who are getting married look to marriage not just for love and support, but for personal growth and self-discovery. We want our partners to help clean the house and remind us to go to the gym, but to also keep sex interesting and have thoughtful things to say. For those with children, all of this is expected as well as being a committed co-parent. It’s a lot to ask of one person. Perhaps an extra pair of hands would be nice?
For me, a woman in her early thirties, single for nearly two years, previously a monogamy-addict, burned and blinded by love - I’m not so sure that we should be romanticising such dependence on one person. My twenties were spent in two significant heterosexual long-term relationships. In one, everything was nice, but uninspiring. Eventually leading to him cheating on me with his boss. The other relationship had more passionate highs, but much deeper lows. I don’t keep in touch with either of my exes. I’m not the same person that I was when I was with them, and I’d prefer not to have the reminder of the ways in which I failed myself in those relationships. The lesson has been learnt, mind you.
For two years now I’ve decided to instead spend time getting to know myself and my preferences. I’ve dated both men and women (new to me) and I put myself in situations where I could explore different relationship dynamics in an effort to better understand myself and others. Don’t get me wrong, I occasionally worked on building two businesses and focused on wholesome things that didn’t revolve around sex and relationships, often taking months away from actively exploring at a time. I also started falling for two men at different times, and spent months dealing with the disappointment that they hadn’t lasted. I’m important to a few people who are in relationships - relationships where their partner recognises our connection and encourages it, knowing that it’s all part of the human experience and that I am not a threat. I date with a more open-minded view than I did five years ago, with an element of exploration still underlying most encounters that I have, however no longer being strictly necessary.
It’s safe to say that I’ve learnt a lot about myself in this time. But something that I still don’t know - is monogamy for me? Something that doesn’t help me decide is even some of my closest friends are disparaging of non-monogamy - stating that the people they do know that have given it a try, have failed to make a success out of it. But… couldn’t you say that about many monogamous relationships? My own included? Surely it’s a failure of connection rather than a failure of relationship type?
Monogamy Mon, the person that I used to be, doesn’t really feel like me anymore. And Non-Monogamy Mon hasn’t been explored enough yet to have a fully formed opinion. But what I do know is that partnership is special, and that loneliness is real.
I wasn’t sure where this post was going, but I guess it’s asking these questions - is Valentine's Day outdated? Does it cater to every person and every relationship type? Should it? Should we place such an emphasis on finding ‘the one’? Should we celebrate signlessness?
Something else that I have noticed while spending time with friends, is that questions about my love life do come up a lot. Who am I dating? How do I find dating? Can I show them the apps? Curiosity in my love life is just a part of being a good friend. But sometimes we can circle around the subject a lot. And, sometimes an interest can turn into advice, and often that’s unsolicited. A friend recently noted that the next big event will be when the group meet my new boyfriend, and how much of a party that will be.
But, let’s just rewind a second, because I don’t have a boyfriend, nor am I actively engaged in dating right now. I came away from a solo trip last month with a newfound appreciation for myself, my resilience and my independence. I told my friends at the time that finding a relationship was something I’d decided to take off of my to-do list. Knowing my worth and the value that I bring, I had faith that the right thing would find me when it was meant to. But somehow, only two weeks later I’m dissecting potential love interests on different dating apps over a pint with friends. Why is it then that I can’t properly disengage with the activity of ‘finding a partner’. I didn’t even catch myself slipping back into these habits. Used to being entertainment fodder for my friends in and out of relationships, a role that I often enjoy. I’m so used to telling tales of my dating life because it was once fun and novel because I was actively exploring different ways of being, that I haven’t yet taught myself how to disengage with this part of catching up with friends.
Why is it then that the subject of coupling up dominates the conversation that those in relationships have with their single friends? It obviously comes from a place of love and place of well meaning, but maybe the interest in my love life reinforces (patriarchal) societal expectations that I’m somehow missing the mark, and actually leads me to feel lonelier? And sometimes I do feel lonely. Which is something that people don’t talk enough about. They assume loneliness is for the old. But loneliness isn’t something I’m experiencing because I’m single. I’ve also felt lonely at times in my long-term relationships, and while I’ve had flatmates. Loneliness for me is when I don’t feel seen by the people I care about. Which is why I’m trying to live more authentically in 2024, be more honest and open and placing an emphasis on all of my relationships in life. Platonic or romantic. (And why I’m writing posts like this).
Another friend of mine recently sent me an article about a new wave of people being dubbed the ‘perma-singles’. Permanently single people, who are deciding to remain single out of choice, not a lack of options. And while I would never describe myself as a perma-single (uh hello, I’ve only been single for two years…) I do really understand why some people might make this choice. The ‘trouble’ as it were, isn’t finding a partner. It’s finding the right partner. It’s knowing who you are before you find them. Them knowing themselves before they find you. Sure, there's a beauty in someone helping you discover yourself, and any healthy relationship will always have an element of this within it. I’ve just not been lucky enough to be in relationships that nurtured me and challenged me to grow in this way.
Most of my personal growth has occurred outside of a relationship. I’ve managed to kick (for the most part) my people pleasing tendencies, my lack of authenticity, my lack of confidence and my very harsh inner critic. I understand the values that drive me, and I know which people in my life make me happy and which don’t. I’ve set up two businesses, explored my sexuality and identity within that, attended self-discovery coaching & retreats and I’ve made new friendships with people that have similar interests. And I’m really, really proud of all of the inner work that I’ve been doing and continue to do. And I’m especially proud that I did all of this without someone at home helping to make dinner, do the laundry or offer up words of support (although that would have been nice). Does all this make me more selective for a future partner? Hell yeah. I’m not in any rush to repeat the mistakes of the past and overlook red flags because society wants me to find a partner.
(It is interesting that some of my friends are also writing me off as a ‘perma-single’ even though I’ve spent most of my adult life in relationships. The notion of being in a relationship is so ingrained into us that a (not even) two year stint of singledom has relegated me to different category than my coupled up friends).
So, Valentine’s Day this year doesn’t really feel like it’s for me - and I suppose that’s how other single people have felt every year, even with the rise of ‘Galentines’ and showing love for your friends. I see all of the product, and all of the messaging and I don’t feel included. Is that how others feel, too?
Maybe this year, it’s time to celebrate your single friends as well as your partner(s). Think of the people who aren’t getting cards with words of affection in them, or daily support from a partner. Think about how amazing and resilient they are. Think about the times that they’ve felt lonely, and ask yourself if a hyper-vigilance of their love life is really the thing to focus on. Maybe it really does takes a village, and non-monogamy might become an accepted norm. Perhaps it’s time to change the traditional V Day narrative and make all relationships and types of relationships important. Maybe disengage from the capitalist gifts we normally expect, and give someone a shoulder rub, a text of appreciation, a note on the side, a cup of tea, a compliment, a poem or a meme. Affection and love is universal, and one of life’s greatest gifts - let’s remind ourselves that its the small [free] acts that can often mean the most, and engage in a more sustainable & caring Valentines.
It’s time to make V Day more inclusive - let’s celebrate humans, pets, self-love, self-exploration, singleness, romance, friendships, monogamy and non-monogamy.
It won’t be long before the capitalist machine starts marketing these messages anyway, so why not be inclusive because you want to be, not because they told you to be.
To my friends who want the best for me - it goes without saying - I think you’re all great. Wishing you all love and understanding this Valentine’s Day xx
Written by Monica Innes, Co-Founder of Re Cabins - Sunday 11th February 2024
