I despise Valentine’s Day. I get nauseous at the first sign of hearts and an overdone pink explosion in a corner of the grocery store. While my mom and many close friends may assume I hate Valentine’s Day because I hate love or because I despise romance or perhaps because I am not one to show affection, I think it has to do with something deeper.

I hate the notion that there is one day a year to shower the people you love in affection and presents. When we're being honest, I think presents are something awesome but should be given out of the desire to give not obligation. I think buying someone flowers and chocolates, only because the societal romantic norm tells you to, is utter bull. That's not my style. I'm the person who prefers to buy candy for someone just because. I don’t like to be dictated by Hallmark holidays. I'm not one to do things the way people expect me to. If I’m obligated to do something I'm miserable.

I hate Valentine's Day on principle. I hate the commercialized red and pink chocolate heart propaganda. I hate being told how to love my significant other and by which standards I'm a good girlfriend. I hate Valentine's Day because my idea of love has no place for tiny winged cupids and red roses. My idea of love involves cups of black coffee out of fandom mugs and ordering enchiladas for breakfast after sleeping in just because. My idea of love involves picking out the things we will do together not get for each other. This love does not involve teddy bears that will collect dust or mugs that I find atrocious and much less attractive than my perfectly picked out Disney and Bob’s Burgers mugs. It’s not that I hate love, but that I hate the lace hearts and boxes of chocolates love cliché that is painted as the ideal.

I am not a fan of gushy rom-coms. There are a select few I will watch and they’re usually the more quirky ones. Perhaps it’s that I don’t really watch movies with a targeted audience greater than eight years old, or perhaps it’s because I’m cynical, but I hate big romantic gestures. Unfortunately for me, a certain February holiday seems to inspire these rom-com romantic gestures. I grimace at other people’s PDA. I internally cringe at my own small displays of PDA. Valentine’s Day is when girls start quoting rom-coms and expecting over-priced gifts to quantify how much someone loves them. This drives me mad. No amount of giant teddy bears or red roses or champagne can quantify love. They can, however, quantify just how far your significant other will go to pacify you.

One of the worst parts of this pointless holiday is seeing good people go through labors that are rather unnecessary to prove their love for their partner through oversized bears, lingerie that won’t fit, and boxes of chocolate that are given out of societal standard rather than because that’s what the other person likes. Call me cynical, but I don’t think love can be measured and I certainly think that material possessions are an untrue way to “measure” how much someone loves you.

Many of my friends are surprised to hear that I did nothing for Valentine’s Day this year. They are especially surprised because I am in a relationship. I am part of the targeted group for this holiday. Being alone cannot explain my bitterness about gummy hearts and roses. Luckily I found a girl who can get behind my hatred of almost all holidays (I did mention that I’m cynical before this point, right?).

To me, romance isn’t the ultimate goal in life. It is something that can be enjoyed among an amalgam of things. I’m not the picnic and flowers and romantic walks on the beach type of person. I hate conventional expressions of love. Hence why Valentine’s Day may be my least favorite holiday; it is not a day to express the love you genuinely have for those around you, but rather one more commercial holiday to fit into other people’s standards.