I remember as a freshman dreading Valentine's Day, regarding it as a sappy, stupid holiday for sex-crazed kids with not enough homework and too much hormones. I remember looking out from my 12 story apartment on Union Square West, watching the pairs of heads walking together. I imagined men and women laughing, smiling, giggling and flirting. I thought them pathetic and stupid to waste their time on frivolous fantasies of love.
In fact, my first Valentine's Da was spent listening to a lecture from my parents, who came with food for me. I had left my cellphone in my apartment, while I was across the hall, watching The Daily Show with the guys. Two of my extended roommates that year were Presidential Scholars, (both in medical school now), the third was a Honors Psychology student. There was no funny business going on between us, in our asylum of Anti-Valentine's Day. I was happy for my actual roommates who were dressed to get laid, with their faces layered in shiny stuff and colorful crap.
That was three years ago.
Now, I am siting in sweats, with my Ireland sweatshirt, which I wear with great pride despite no clear affiliation with Ireland, and my tapered sweats. Although I may slightly resemble a man, or a soccer player (I am not sure which one), I find myself as frumpy as I always am on this day.I did not wear anything red, or festive. I did not buy myself a box of chocolates. Instead, I spent today completely devoted to brainstorming and research.
The real Valentine's Day is every day that I see Mohamed, who inspires a wealth of happiness and cleanliness in me that for the most part has been lost in college. A change in marital status allows me to know what it is like to get dolled up in anticipation, to get ready to see your most favorite person in the world, to truly care how someone perceives you. Of course, many women get dressed up to go see their girlfriends, to go on fake-dates on V-Day. This getting ready to go outside for many women is very natural (and very socialized), but for me, it comes only at specific times. I appreciate those times more because I do not do it for anyone else, and I do not bother to do it for myself (My self-esteem is independent of how or what I wear, though of course, if I am wearing a $50 hijab, I feel pretty nice).
For those of who are sitting alone, without a cat or a roommate, just remember Valentine's Day is not for another year.
In fact, my first Valentine's Da was spent listening to a lecture from my parents, who came with food for me. I had left my cellphone in my apartment, while I was across the hall, watching The Daily Show with the guys. Two of my extended roommates that year were Presidential Scholars, (both in medical school now), the third was a Honors Psychology student. There was no funny business going on between us, in our asylum of Anti-Valentine's Day. I was happy for my actual roommates who were dressed to get laid, with their faces layered in shiny stuff and colorful crap.
That was three years ago.
Now, I am siting in sweats, with my Ireland sweatshirt, which I wear with great pride despite no clear affiliation with Ireland, and my tapered sweats. Although I may slightly resemble a man, or a soccer player (I am not sure which one), I find myself as frumpy as I always am on this day.I did not wear anything red, or festive. I did not buy myself a box of chocolates. Instead, I spent today completely devoted to brainstorming and research.
The real Valentine's Day is every day that I see Mohamed, who inspires a wealth of happiness and cleanliness in me that for the most part has been lost in college. A change in marital status allows me to know what it is like to get dolled up in anticipation, to get ready to see your most favorite person in the world, to truly care how someone perceives you. Of course, many women get dressed up to go see their girlfriends, to go on fake-dates on V-Day. This getting ready to go outside for many women is very natural (and very socialized), but for me, it comes only at specific times. I appreciate those times more because I do not do it for anyone else, and I do not bother to do it for myself (My self-esteem is independent of how or what I wear, though of course, if I am wearing a $50 hijab, I feel pretty nice).
For those of who are sitting alone, without a cat or a roommate, just remember Valentine's Day is not for another year.
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