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| Photo by Apollo Kenji Llanes and Mia Seleccion |
“This life is mine alone. So I have stopped asking people for directions to places they've never been.” - Glennon Doyle
We were all born with another half, or more specifically, according to Plato’s Symposium, we were born with four arms, four legs, and two heads. We used to live peacefully in this form but because Zeus feared our power, he split us all into two separate parts, making everyone lose their other halves. This tale gives us insight into why we are so eager to find our strayed pair—our the one.
I remember my mom narrating the mythology to me when I was younger and how it gave me, a hopeless romantic who relies on books, the idea that I will eventually find someone who likes me as much as I like them. And nothing speaks more about finding your fated half than Valentine’s Day. February 14 or Valentine's Day was something the teenager in me would often call Doomsday; I was very much bitter back then, that's why. Other than that, I considered the day as Doomsday because it is the day wherein new relationships are born, established couples are strengthened, and long-kept feelings of love are finally declared.
Romantic attraction, girlfriends, boyfriends, lovers, all these words seem to make up the very concept that Valentine's Day revolves around. And for the most part, it is indeed a good day for people to find love from someone they treasure, or maybe be that person to finally give love after a long time. Regardless of how different everyone’s day turns out, be it ending with heartbreak, togetherness, the addicting butterflies of a first date, or the pain of rejection, it all falls on one thing—romantic love from another person.
As a teenager, this always seemed like a big deal, especially for people like me who never saw themselves being liked by someone. It is a day when I always hope for a secret admirer to emerge out of the blue and profess their love for me. I do admit that I had a shallow view of romantic love back then—of love altogether, even. In fact, I think all of us tend to forget that the concept of love goes beyond the romantic. As time went by, I gave myself more mercy and acknowledgment; I stopped rushing. I stopped hoping for a secret admirer to come out and tell me that they like me because I had a clearer sense of what love truly is.
Back then, I used to spend Valentine’s Day in pure loneliness and abhorrence towards couples, but as a famous saying goes, “their win is not my loss.” Therefore, the immature, inexperienced part of me suddenly grew a backbone and stopped being such a buzzkill. I finally had genuine support for couples and people looking for love just like I do. My urge to find someone romantically eventually died down. No, not because I am bitter, but because as I remembered the tale my mom told me, I questioned the circumstances: What if some people just don’t have their fated pairs or the one? Would it really affect your life living a solo flight? What would be so bad about choosing to become a romantic hermit, even just for a little while?
Rather than reserve a table for the one, how about just reserve a table for one? Relish in self-love, though I know it is hard to do so. How are you able to find a lover for yourself if you won’t find love for yourself? It is true that it is such a lovely thing to be loved and to love someone just as much, but is love only limited to love between two people?
Valentine’s Day is indeed about love, but we seem to forget one thing to focus on for this special day: any form of love is love. Love isn’t only romantic, it can be a whole slew of things, be it platonic or familial; love is like an ice cream shop with dozens of flavors and each one is just as good as the other. Along with that, celebrating your love and appreciation for yourself is valid. Maybe the one that we are eagerly looking for is the one standing in front of the mirror?
That is why we celebrate different forms of love this Valentine’s Day. You may celebrate your own meaning of love, and there are no rules on who or how you will spend it with, for love is love—it knows no gender, no race, no quantity. There is no right and wrong way to go about it.
