Valentine’s Day has never really been my thing. It’s always felt more commercial than meaningful—love condensed into price tags, expectations, and a single sanctioned day. I’ve always preferred showing affection year-round in smaller, truer ways: a note left where it might be discovered later, making someone’s favorite meal for no reason, gestures that say I see you without needing an audience.
As a single woman, Valentine’s Day can sometimes feel hollow—not because love is missing from my life, but because the version being celebrated doesn’t reflect the way I actually live or love. This year, though, I find myself less wistful and more reflective. I’m thinking about what being single really means when you strip away the narratives we’re handed.
If I’m honest, this may very well be how I live out the remainder of my days—and I’m more at peace with that than I ever expected to be. I’d love to share my life with someone, but after fifteen years of being single, I know myself. I value my space. I enjoy my routines. I don’t need someone in my orbit twenty-four hours a day to feel complete. I like sleeping diagonally in my bed. I like not negotiating shelf space or tolerating someone else’s questionable toothbrush habits. That isn’t loneliness—it’s discernment.
That doesn’t mean I’m closed to connection. It would be lovely to cook for someone occasionally. To take a walk, see a movie, share time without pressure or expectation. I no longer believe that every moment together has to earn its keep or lead somewhere else to be valid.
And yes, I enjoy sex—but not as a transaction. Not as a reward for showing up. I want intimacy that’s mutual, present, and satisfying—not rushed, performative, or over before it’s even begun. I’m no longer willing to accept less just to say I had something.
What I want now isn’t romance as it’s traditionally packaged. I want connection with intention. Desire with depth. Companionship that enhances my life rather than rearranges it. And if that kind of relationship never materializes, I know this: I am already whole. I am already living a full, textured life—one built on self-knowledge, autonomy, and choice.
This Valentine’s Day, I’m not waiting to be chosen.
I already am.