I don’t have a sweetheart on Valentine’s Day this year which, if anyone knows me, isn’t that big of a deal. Hell, I love being single. It’s not to say there aren’t downsides to being single but in my life it’s a definite plus. I remember many other V-Days when I wasn’t single and they were all very nice, except my high school years. I felt like the ugly duckling in high school and I didn’t blossom until I went to Uni at 23. In fact, many of the guys I liked in high school who wouldn’t give me a moment’s glance were flocking around me the first summer I was home for Uni break. I got lots of Valentine’s that year.
I remember my Dad always giving my sister and I luxurious gifts and of course, the biggest heart-box of chocolates he could find. He’s always been my hero and I love him very much for teaching me the art of self-sufficiency even though I come from a very wealthy family. Dad insisted upon me understanding the value of money and that you had to work hard for it. I started working when I was 15, had my own car by 16 and paid my bills but on V-Day I was Daddy’s sweetheart and favourite girl.
He taught me how to fish, how to plant and harvest a garden and how to use nature for energy like heating a home. I stacked cords of wood like the boys in the neighbourhood. I split it sometimes too. I was taught how to fix things and not be afraid to get my hands dirty. Every other Saturday, even when I was out of high school, I helped Dad wash the Corvette and wax it. I suppose I was tom-boyish in some ways but I still loved traditional girly things like V-Day.
Even though this V-Day I’m single I still love the day and will buy myself chocolates. Nothing like self-love and appreciation, especially for all the things I’ve achieved so far in my life. Dad taught me that too. For years, when we were less fortunate and I wore hand-me-downs my Dad worked hard for his family so that eventually we didn’t have to worry about money any more. When Dad finally felt he had made something of himself he took me to look at his reward: either a red Ferrari or a ZR-1 custom interior Corvette. That was my Dad’s V-Day present to himself.
My Dad is a very eccentric character. He loved to walk around in clothes that didn’t match his status. I remember he had this bright orange hunter hat he’d wear with half torn jeans. When we walked into GM to look at the Corvette’s the dealers thought he was just dreaming. Little did they know in 2 more days he would put cash on their desk and pay for the Corvette outright. That was my Dad, hard working but always true to himself and never worried about what people thought of him.
I suppose those things are V-day gifts that keep giving. They are lifetime gifts that you can’t get anywhere in any store. My Dad loved his girls. He taught us how to give and to receive. When he finally did get his Corvette the first thing he did when he got home was give me the keys. He knew that these precious moments were for sharing. It’s important to love and care for yourself but it’s also important to share what you have.
I suppose this is where I post some of the selfish misogynist whining that’s all over the Manosphere about V-Day. For them you’d think it was the end of the world. One guy on AVFM made a comment about how he didn’t really care much about his anniversary and simultaneously couldn’t figure out why his 2 marriages ended. The MRA’s think V-Day is about worshipping women and they’ve made this conspiracy called the ‘Gynocracy’ to justify their own shortcomings and selfishness. Reading the comments I get this image in my head of the typical MRA, sitting at his computer playing video games all day, watching porn, and then complaining that women are out to get him.
These guys are nothing like my hero, my Dad. It seems they all lost the plot. One of the FeMRA’s who is supposedly a therapist had this to say about V-Day:
‘Valentine’s Day and Mother’s Day are high holidays for Golden Uteri and entitlement pwincesses.
The greater the significance a potential mate/date (if you’re looking) places on either of these holidays, the greater her expectations of tribute and over the top gestures, the greater the odds are that you should run for the nearest exit like your pants are on fire.’
Somehow I don’t see any of her male clients getting any better. I think many FeMRA’s like being the center of male attention so they say outrageously misogynist things. Well, in Tara’s case, it’s her money machine. Nothing like telling men that women are the problem while offering therapy to them and then say things like that to make them ‘better.’
Napoleon, the MRA dude who threatened me with a lolsuit for calling him an asshole on Youtube, came up with this test to see if a woman would make a good partner:
‘Here is a good test. When you pick up your date open the door for her, but make sure yours is locked. Even fumble for your keys by the window. If she does not unlock the door for you, leave her.’
Well, doesn’t look like Napoleon will be having any healthy relationships soon. Here’s another little ‘test’ an MRA called Mrwombat came up with:
‘Try this experiment (if you can afford it): buy something for v-day, but have it personalised. Engraved. If you see a flash of disappointment and then a big bright fake smile, she is thinking “damn, I can only sell this for the value of the gems”.’
This is especially funny because MRA’s have this other conspiracy theory about women giving men ‘shit tests’ which, quite ironically, sound like this.
Many MRA’s get angry at ‘beta’ males or ‘blue pillers’ on V-Day. A ‘beta’/blue piller’ male is a man who has a good life and is able to share it with women in a healthy way. On V-Day they celebrate their relationships and can maintain a good relationship with a woman.
‘I shakes me head in embarrassment for those blue pill brothers of mine, who just cannot see the futility of their actions.’
This MRA is an ecologist who’s worried about forests:
‘Seriously, logging down entire forests for cards to be offered to some heathen Goddess of Narcissism and her devoted followers, along with virtually mountains of dead flowers and rivers of blood diamonds?’
Other guys got hung up on some middle-age tale of a Knight and Lady:
‘IIRC, you presented a case where one of the guys was bitching about the unhygenic way the woman was treating him (stink from the ass or something like that) due to this bondage.’
Ridiculous, I know, but that’s typical of the Manosphere. I regret having to share it with you.
Have a wonderful V-Day!