If we’re being really real, being born on a day dedicated to LOVE and all its glory, feels like a fantastic foundation and origin story.
Emotionally, when I was younger it always felt like Valentine’s Day was all about me. I mean, one of my grandmas literally wanted to name me Valentina. And my other grandma wanted to name me Clementine. What the name Clementine has to do with Valentine’s Day is beyond me – but I’m definitely glad neither name stuck. No shade to either of those names – they’re just not me. But imagine who I would be if my name was Valentina and I was always associated with my birthday, therefore the foundation of my identity was formed around that?! I fear I may have been insufferable. LOL.
And as a matter of (fun) fact, my parents didn’t have a name for me. So, my first and middle name on my original birth certificate are quite literally BLANK. I was born on the day of love, and left the hospital completely nameless for weeks until they finally figured it out. I always wonder how many other babies left the hospital with no name? (I can’t imagine hospitals allowing this to happen now). Maybe my parents felt so much pressure to name me something so special because I was in fact, so sublimely special and born on this especially special day? LOL. Hmmm, that thought actually just occurred to me…. the pressure!
While the world celebrates a cute, cozy, corny love day, there are definitely pros and cons that come with having a birthday on Valentine’s Day. Just like any birthday that falls on a big, glitzy, glammy gift-driven holiday. If you know, you know this feeling all too well – the celebration is never entirely yours. And as I grew older, my feelings about my birthday shifted. Now, I feel like my birthday exists, but doesn’t really belong to me per se. It belongs to something bigger, louder, with default decorations, and a planned template. I’ve just come to accept that my “special day” will always be communal and it’s normal to feel like people are celebrating around me, not necessarily for me. And when gifts sometimes feel more seasonal than personal – that’s when you’ve really clocked it. Or just getting old and bitter.
Let’s break down some V-Day b’day pros and cons, shall we?
The Pros: Being Extra Is Acceptable
The Cons: Blurred Lines
I would honestly say that my V-Day b’day has helped shape me in quiet, meaningful ways. Whether my whole being was pre-determined by my birthday, my astrological sign, or me just being raised right (LOL) – I do love and care very deeply, I want to feel celebrated, but also want others to feel seen as well. I learned early on that love is complex and layered. That joy can be shared. And oftentimes, I have to advocate for myself while still uplifting and holding space for others. I can be tough and fiery, yet secretly sensitive and sentimental. I’ve also learned that feeling special isn’t always singular; it’s oftentimes woven into something much bigger than myself.
At its worst, a Valentine’s Day birthday is a complete paradox. Romantic and inconvenient. Magical yet mildly annoying. Hearts, cake, and candy – served with the occasional eye roll. But at its best? It’s a reminder that love isn’t confined to one shape. It can look like celebration. Or compromise. Or laughter. Or choosing yourself even when the world is distracted by cards, chocolate, and roses.
I may have been born on the day of love, but the real gift was learning how to live inside it. On my own terms. And to me, that’s the realest, truest, rawest kind of love. A love you grow into and get to peel back all the layers, not one you’re born under.
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