By 
Valentine’s Day is on the horizon, but don’t rush to book a table at The Ivy. I admit, I’m no hopeless romantic; rather, a self-proclaimed “bad romantic.”
Honestly, I find Valentine’s Day a bit much. It feels overhyped. Would Saint Valentine himself approve of this? The high streets overflow with love and romance, almost forcefully. You see couples holding hands, sharing longing gazes in the park—it feels excessive. Valentine’s Day often seems like a commercial push to publicly declare devotion.
In the ‘90s, it all felt simpler. Valentine’s was solely about letting someone know you had a crush on them. Cards didn’t need to be fancy; any card would do, preferably one scented with Impulse. Who could resist that charm? Sure, it may have been a little overpowering, but it was all part of winning a heart. Think more Corey Haim and less Al Pacino in Scent of a Woman.
Remember mixtapes? Nothing said “I like you” more than a mixtape filled with 90s R&B hits. Tracks like SWV’s Right Here, Robin S’s Show Me Love, or Kris Kross’s Jump—and Boyz II Men to seal the deal. It took courage, and you hoped they’d get the message without thinking you were overly obsessed.
These days, just skip the dinner out; stay in and make a mix tape. Whether it’s a card or a mix tape, the hope is they get the hint without labeling you a stalker. If all goes well, maybe they’d invite you for a walk at the shopping center—a true ‘90s dream.
Now, in the present, I know my husband loves me. Real love is him kissing me despite my sofa naps, complete with drool. It’s him watching me polish off a family-sized bag of Doritos without judgment, even if both of us know it’s indulgent. Love is him not mentioning why my jeans fit tighter, though we both know it’s from those Doritos. I thought switching to G&Ts and going for a couple of runs would help—turns out, it might take a bit more effort.
You might wonder, “What woman doesn’t love romance?” I enjoy a good romantic comedy now and then, but keep those rose petals away. Small gestures—like a handwritten card or a movie outing—are plenty. We don’t need extravagant time together, nor do we need to hold hands constantly; a bit of space keeps things alive.
For most of us juggling busy lives, feeling loved year-round matters more than a single day of romantic gestures. That’s the perspective of a woman who’s not all about romance. No flowers or chocolate hearts for me; I buy my own flowers. And let’s be real, no one wants yellow carnations—we want peonies and hydrangeas.
Visit Jo’s website: Guilty Mother
