EDITORIAL: Valentine's Day is Better Alone

Belmont Vision Multimedia. (Haley Ramsey)

First dates are exhausting. 

Tinder is a black hole.

And having a boyfriend is embarrassing. 

As someone who’s spent 21 Valentine’s Days single, I’m finally looking forward to 22. 

Throughout my life, I’ve had plenty of experience dating, seeking romance and pondering the lone relationship I’ve actually been in. This year for Valentine’s Day, I gave up.

Despite the cynical tone I may come off having, I simply think Cupid’s holiday is better spent single. And, well, I should know.

Now, there’s certainly nothing wrong with admitting to feeling lonely or wishing to be in a relationship. Still, realizing that I don’t actually want a boyfriend after all has not only lifted a huge weight off my shoulders, but has also relinquished any guilt I feel at my lack of suitors. 

In a widely referenced British Vogue article, “Is Having a Boyfriend Embarrassing?” writer Chanté Joseph noted a sweeping change of attitudes in women towards their or their friends’ male partners. Something that was once a status symbol or a cause for celebration is now being purposely hidden by many. 

“It is now fundamentally uncool to be a boyfriend-girl,” said Joseph, when discussing why even partnered women would rather hide their relationships on social media nowadays.

Conversations surrounding traditional roles and sexuality have undoubtedly shifted over the years, as Joseph points out. So, is this another indication of the rise of liberal views in women and a rejection of social expectations?

In short: maybe.

It could also be that throughout the slow and tantalizing journey of women's liberation, more and more of the feminine collective have realized their lifestyles are simply not meant to accommodate a romantic partner.

So this one simple question now becomes a self-reflexive turning point where women must ask themselves: “Whether having a boyfriend is embarrassing or not, do I even want one?”

The biggest area where Joseph falls short in her argument is the part that reads just a bit too “poor straight people,” for my taste:

“As straight women, we’re confronting something that every other sexuality has had to contend with: a politicization of our identity,” said Joseph.

In my eyes, this new era of “heterofatalism,” as Jean Garnett coined for the New York Times, isn’t necessarily a bad thing, and let’s face it, straight people have always and will always have the easiest time dating. 

Admittedly, I’ve also lived in perpetuum of single self-misery. I’ve wailed to my friends about wanting someone to cozy up with at night, cook dinner or spend holidays with. But now, I revel in the chance to spend a night alone. 

I work a part-time job serving off campus, I take classes full-time at Belmont and any free time I have left is typically marked out for my job here at the Vision. In other words, when would I possibly have time for a relationship?

From Hinge to Bumble and, of course, Tinder, I’ve used just about every major dating app available. When it comes time to actually plan a first date, I can’t help but think that I could use that time in so many other ways. 

At Belmont, I’ve been lucky to have an amazing group of friends to spend nights and weekends with, doing everything together from grabbing dinner to watching new episodes of our favorite shows. So, I can hardly justify spending my already sacred time with a strange man–or woman–when I could be with people I already know I like.

Maybe my routine of single-serving dinners and movie nights with my cat sounds depressing to some, but finally realizing what I want in my current life has come with its own invigorating freedom. 

I still scroll through Hinge, curious as to who liked my meticulously crafted profile.

I still scour bars looking for a handsome stranger to flirt with.

And I still groan to my friends that I deserve my very own Drew Starkey–because “I work so hard.” 

But this year, I can't wait to get home on February 14, wrap myself in a Pepto-Bismol-colored fluffy pink robe, curl up with my ornery tuxedo cat and fall asleep reading a book that no man has ever understood the way I do. 

In other words, I’m looking forward to another blissfully quiet Saturday night.

This article was written by Haley Ramsey