Do you believe in destiny? That even the powers of time can be altered for a single purpose? That the luckiest man who walks on this earth is the one that finds true love? –Bram Stoker, Dracula

So here’s the thing: if you haven’t figured this out by now, I’m basically what you would call a “hopeless romantic”. I’m the child prodigy (and I use that term loosely because I’ve let my musician side slip over the years) of a genuine free-loving hippie who grew up on a farm and a semi-professional piano player who’s played in more romantic restaurants than I’ve probably ever been to in my entire life. My mother always taught me to love everything, despite of color, religion or previous transgressions and even gave me a lecture a couple of days ago when I said that I wouldn’t allow my cats to sleep in my bedroom once my precious baby girl comes. My father is the king of grand gestures, spent a big part of his life in New York City living a Don Draper lifestyle and frequenting fancy restaurants and clubs. He taught me to never settle for a garbage meal and told me that if a man really respects me, he’ll be more than willing to pay for the fillet mignon. “The thing about fillet mignon,” he told me one night when he took me out during my single years, “is that it’s the tiniest cut of steak and by far the most expensive. A real man will definitely spoil you, and he’ll be happy to,” he continued as he sipped his red wine. 

And you know? I never forgot those things. It isn’t to say that I demand this luxurious lifestyle or that I want to be showered with expensive gifts but the idea of general romance is really appealing to me. I like getting dolled up and attending fancy dinners, I love holding hands with my husband while we walk from our car to the restaurant, and I love when my husband says little random things like, “I’m so proud of you with this pregnancy,” or “I’m so lucky; I don’t know how I got you,” or “I don’t care what we’re doing on our day off, as long as I’m with you.” I’m a poor sap and I fall for the sweet things in life and you know what? I’m totally okay with admitting it.

So naturally when Valentine’s Day comes around, I get all disgruntled when people aren’t feeling the love like I am. I have to admit that I do always say that Valentine’s Day is a really commercialized holiday and in fact, go out on my “Valentine’s” date one to two weeks after all the hype has settled. But that’s only because I don’t appreciate fixed menus (after all, my father did raise a diva) and I don’t like standing in restaurant lobbies waiting for a table just to be rushed because someone has a reservation behind me. I ain’t about that life at all. I’m that person that takes hours on dinner dates, especially after a couple of martinis. I don’t like to be rushed.

My husband and I don’t necessarily do “Valentine’s Day”, per se, but we do go out every year about two weeks after to celebrate. His standard tradition is to buy me Godiva Chocolates (which I typically don’t share) and sometimes get me a little card or flowers to show he’s thinking about me. But typically we have the mentality that we do things for each other all year long and we really just want a date night. We’re pretty low maintenance people when it comes to gifts because we prefer to do things together, rather than spend money on separate gifts. (For example, I would much rather go to Gaylord Palms with my husband and spend the weekend cuddling and getting a suntan than sport a new Michael Kors bag. But that’s just me.)

But I’m not against Valentine’s Day. I find that so many people are, especially lately, and I kind of am baffled by it. I come from a family that will use anything as an excuse to party so I guess I just figure that although it’s a commercial holiday, why not use it as day to remember how great your relationship is? Even if you aren’t going to dinner at Ciro’s (one of my personal favorites) or getting an overpriced, well-wrapped gift, why not celebrate the love that you feel all year long? Even if you’re only just saying to your significant other, “Hey, Happy Valentine’s Day, babe. I love you and I love our life,” before you leave for work in the morning?

There is this one girl I work with who seems to have something of a word limit that she has to hit every day. And I’ve found that lately, she’s sort of stealing my jokes and using them later on in the day, forgetting that I was the one who originally gave her the material and she’s sitting at a conference table next to me. Anyway, because it was Valentine’s Day, it seemed like everyone was asking everybody else what romantic plans were scheduled for the day. I had mentioned a couple of times that I had plans in two weeks, that my husband and I were avoiding the crowd but were looking forward to our own little Valentine’s date.

Well this girl, the one with the apparent word limit, starts talking about how she absolutely hates Valentine’s Day. She’s single, pretty close to thirty, and plays the part of a really strong, independent woman. (And I’m not discrediting that because I don’t really know her; she very well could be but I often find that people who make a point to brag about certain things are usually trying to overcompensate for something.) She goes on to tell us that she has a couple of “boy toys”, as she calls them, but has chosen not to go on Valentine’s dates with any of them (and I get that because she probably doesn’t want to give the wrong impression in case they suck at life). She then says that a boyfriend cheated on her like, seven years ago on Valentine’s Day and ever since then, she’s despised the holiday.

And you know what, friends? I kind of looked at her and wanted to crinkle my eyebrows but I’m working really hard on controlling my facial expressions. (I’m doing this for my daughter so that she develops a better poker face than I have because my lack of one gets me in trouble.) Let me tell you a little story about my daft, behemoth ex-boyfriend and Valentine’s Day. First of all, we were together a lot of years and I don’t believe that we ever had a successful Valentine’s Day. To be honest, our relationship was only good for about three minutes and seemed to get progressively worse.

Although I knew that he wouldn’t have filet mignon waiting for me when I got home from work, or even a simple card from the local grocery store, I was expecting something because after all, he was my [asshole] boyfriend and we were living together. But naturally, as was the theme with our relationship from the very beginning, I was never his first priority. (His priorities basically went as follows: the fire department, his friends, his family, his ex-girlfriend that he was prominently cheating on me with, fried chicken cutlets and Denny’s breakfast, and then me.) Although I was seriously expecting a little something from that total tool bag for Valentine’s Day, what I got was absolutely nothing. No flowers, no dinner, no balloons, and certainly not a gift. I later learned this was because he had used his limited extra funds to get a sweet hotel room with his ex-girlfriend so they could bang all day while I was safely at work. And so, I got nothing. Kate- 0, Ex-girlfriend- about a million and rapidly gaining momentum.

Happy Valentine’s Day to me.

But despite all of that, despite my ex-boyfriend being a total piece of New Jersey garbage, I didn’t harbor all these terrible feelings for Valentine’s Day because of what he did. I didn’t allow him to ruin yet another thing in my life for years to come because he couldn’t seem to keep his reproductive organs to himself. I didn’t get mad year after year, thinking about how Tom cheated on me with his ex-girlfriend and just allow the resentment to build up because it happened on Valentine’s Day. Quite the opposite, actually. And you know why? Because that mother fucker wouldn’t know how to romance someone if he got paid fourteen million dollars to do it so why would I give him that much power? Why would I let him take such a beautiful day away from me?

Especially when he’s already taken way too much already? Absolutely not, friends. I fucking love Valentine’s Day! Mostly because it represents all the things that that awful man isn’t!

He’s not your Prince Charming if he doesn’t make sure you know that you’re his princess. –Demi Lovato

I guess I just have this issue with how miserable people are about Valentine’s Day. And honestly, I feel a little guilty about it; I don’t want to be judgmental about something so miniscule because I don’t know what kind of Valentine’s Day induced trauma people have endured. My sister always likes to talk very specifically about the St. Valentine’s Day Massacre and how that’s her absolute favorite part about Valentine’s Day. In case you guys aren’t aware of what the St. Valentine’s Day Massacre is, I’ll give you a little background because as we all know, most Italians are obsessed with Mafia folklore and I’m a geek for true crime. Stereotypes exist for a reason.

Basically it was a turf war between Al “Scarface” Capone and an Irish gang leader named George “Bugs” Moran. Although the incident was never officially linked to Capone, it’s often believed that the alleged accidental shootout in a Chicago south-side garage was because he was hungry with power. And with Bugs Moran out of the picture, guess who was free to run the streets of Chicago? Al Capone’s alleged guys dressed up like policemen and had a crazy, bloody shootout with the rival Irish gang. As of February 15^th, 1929, Al Capone was the one profiting from all the racketeering, bootlegging and prostitution in Chicago. He later died of cardiac arrest from complications of syphilis at the age of 48.

I’m not sure why she chooses to use this Italian boasted legend as her favorite piece of Valentine’s Day but to each their own, I suppose. Happy Valentine’s Day, Nancy.

The other thing that I notice is that some people, especially single people (and no offense) seem to really hate that other people enjoy Valentine’s Day. It’s like, as a piece of a happy couple, you’re being penalized because someone is actually willing to put up with you. I always make that joke that my husband and I are “that couple everyone hates” because it seems like certain individuals don’t appreciate genuinely happy couples. They don’t enjoy when couples thrive through issues and refuse to be broken down, they don’t appreciate that maybe certain couples actually enjoy being together, and they seem to have real problems with the fact that some relationships are just really strong and concrete. And I find sometimes, especially around people like my aforementioned single co-worker, I’m left having to almost apologize for being happy and loving Valentine’s day.

And you know what, friends? I kind of don’t think that’s fair. Of course I’m not going to speculate why some people are in relationships and some people aren’t, especially given the line of work I’m in. I just also feel like I shouldn’t be punished for being really, disgustingly happy and for thinking an extra, commercialized holiday to celebrate my amazing husband is just fine. It’s like that scene in Play It to the Bone where Antonio Banderas is an Atheist and judges Woody Harrelson for his devout Christianity and then Lolita Davidovich goes, “WHO CARES IF HE SAW JESUS?!”  

It’s kind of like, who cares that I love my husband more than anything else in this entire world? (Quite frankly, and this is just my opinion, that’s how it should be or you’re doing something wrong.) Who cares if I actually enjoy celebrating some nonsense commercialized holiday if it means that I can shower my husband with love and affection? Who cares if I desire to make my relationship special and every day with my husband one that makes him glad he chose me? Who cares if I would rather hang out with my husband than see some garbage movie with my girlfriends? Who cares if I cut some people out of my life sometimes because my husband is more important?

That’s how it’s supposed to be! And I absolutely refused to be criticized for putting my husband and my relationship first. If you can’t respect how beautiful my life is and how grateful I am every day to be here, then what purpose do you serve?

And honestly, it’s not everybody. I have this one girlfriend who is married with two children and she’s just like me; her family is absolutely her first priority. She’s social but only in a way that doesn’t affect her home life. Her children come first, her husband comes pretty close right after that and all other things are secondary. And the other day she said to me, “I know I’m an asshole, but I hate Valentine’s Day.”

She’s one of those low-maintenance girls who hates it for the normal reasons: it’s too commercial, it’s a trumped up day to just wait in line at restaurants, and I don’t need a day to tell my husband how much I love him; I do that every day. (You know I actually read this nonsense article that had seventeen so-called reasons why people hate Valentine’s Day. One of them was “red” and one of them was “red and pink”. Come on. Another was “lingerie”. Like, stop it, alleged author lady. You’re grasping at straws and no one really “hates” lingerie. I know I’m a former Victoria’s Secret employee so this should go without saying but I LOVE lingerie. I don’t necessarily love the way I look in it, especially right now, but to say you don’t love something lacy and beautiful is utter nonsense. Get over it.)

And I wanted to laugh at my sweet girlfriend because although she allegedly hates Valentine’s Day, she embodies it every day. Maybe she and her husband don’t go out on a lot of dates (because they both work full time and have two kids) or buy each other expensive “Valentine’s Day” gifts but they’re good to each other all year long. They’re respectful to each other, they are successful co-parents, and they support each other when there are moments of weakness. They love each other in a way that strengthens them both and that’s what Valentine’s Day is all about, right?

Love is the place you come back to, no matter where you’re headed. –Jodi Picoult

I don’t know why I’ve become so sensitive about all of this over the years, to be honest with you. Maybe once I got into a secure relationship, I started to sort of take this whole “anti-Valentine’s Day” thing personally. When I was single and moderately romantically miserable, I used to go to Chili’s with one of my really close girlfriends on Valentine’s Day and we would buy each other cards and chocolate. I know everyone calls it “Galentine’s Day” now, where you spend your money and time spoiling your girlfriends. But back in 2006, we called it “anti-Valentine’s Day” and after we gorged ourselves on bacon cheeseburgers and that delicious Chili’s molten lava cake, we would go read about Nicole Richie’s anorexia at Books-a-Million. Back then I was easily satisfied by smut magazines and overly caffeinated lattes.

I can’t say I’ve changed all that much.

But what I’ve come to notice is that I feel really safe within my relationship. I was just having this discussion with my husband the other day. We were talking about how things just seem to always work themselves out when you’re in a loving, secure relationship. I was saying specifically how being with him sort of alleviates my anxiety because I know that no matter what, everything will be alright. I was trying to explain that although I’m always going to be chronically neurotic and worry about stupid things, I’m always going to feel safe because I know that I’ve got him to help me face whatever problems come my way. I reminded him about this one time when we had gone to visit my cousin in Orlando and his transmission started smoking when we got off of I-4.

Honestly, the way my personality is, things like that give me pretty serious anxiety. I’m one of those planner brands of people. I don’t understand how people can just roam around and fly by the seat of their pants; that makes me absolutely crazy and I would never be able to relax with that lifestyle. For some reason, a sense of order is really calming for me and I know that probably sounds so boring but it’s just the way it is. I’m one of those people that gets really bent out of shape when I make plans and they fall apart because I rely so heavily on the structure for my sanity. Getting off at an exit off of I-4 to pull up to a light with a smoking gear shifter was probably one of the most anxiety inducing things I’ve experienced in a long time.

Immediately, I started to panic (which makes my husband crazy because he’s so annoyingly calm all the time) and I asked a million questions: How are we going to make it to my cousin’s apartment? How are we going to get back home? What am I going to do about work on Monday? What happens if we’re down to one car since we both have a commute to work? How are we going to pay for this crisis and how am I supposed to be enjoying myself this weekend if I’m constantly thinking about how your car is about to explode on I-4?!

He kept touching my leg in between shifting and saying, “Babe, stop. It will be alright. It’s just a car. We’re going to enjoy ourselves this weekend and we’ll figure this out when we leave on Sunday.” (“We’ll figure this out” are not really words in my innate vocabulary but I’ve come to really appreciate them over the years.) And I won’t lie to you and say I didn’t worry all weekend (because you would all know that’s nonsense) and I’m not going to say that my husband didn’t get stern with me when he asked me to quit going on about it.

I also won’t say that that drive back home to Pasco County was the smoothest I’ve ever embarked on but we did make it. And no one’s car exploded. At least not ours.

But on that drive home, I started to think about how all these little things, all these little wrenches thrown into my well-laid plans, seem so unimportant once some time has passed. I started thinking on that dark, really scary drive home that if I was going to be stuck on the side of the road with anyone, I would want it to be my husband. I started thinking that if anyone could make me laugh during a moment when I was really scared, frustrated, and nervous about what was to come, it was that wonderful man squinting in the dark next to me. I started to realize that even when things are really bad, even when it seems like we have the worst luck (which sometimes, it’s hard not to feel like that), and even when I swear that this is the last dollar I’m putting into either one of our vehicles, I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Life isn’t perfect and sometimes all hell breaks loose. But as long as I have him, I’ll be alright. It’ll all be alright. And we’ll figure it out.

Moral of the Crazy: These last few weeks, I started thinking about all the amazing people in my life. I started thinking about Valentine’s Day and all the love that’s been swirling around my world. I started thinking about all the love that people spread on a daily basis without even knowing it. I started thinking even further about one of my newfound closest friends, how she took me under her wing, answered my millions of questions, and always picked up the phone when I needed her. I started thinking about all these people that allegedly hate the premise of Valentine’s Day without even realizing that they are infectious with their love, without ever noticing that what they do every day for other people is what Valentine’s Day is all about.

I think it’s pretty clear, given my chosen line of work and tender nature, that I like to help people. I like to be good to people, I like to be nice to people, and I like to go out of my way for other people. And I’m not one of those individuals that needs recognition for it. I do it because it feels good knowing that I made someone else’s day a little brighter, a little bit easier.

With all of this, I started to think that sometimes, we do things for the people we love. Sometimes those things aren’t things that we want to do; sometimes those things aren’t high on our list of priorities, and sometimes they’re not things that we would probably ever think about otherwise. But when you love someone, when you’ve taken time out of your day to stop and care about them, those things just seem so natural. I don’t particularly like prepping breakfast for the week but I do it because my husband works at four in the morning. I know he doesn’t like getting my gas or picking up my boxes from the post office but he does it without question because it makes my life easier. I’m sure my new girlfriend doesn’t always want to kill her phone battery talking to me but she’s unbothered by it because she’s a good person and she cares about me. It doesn’t really seem like a chore when it’s a person you care about.

We do things we don’t always want to for the people we love. Because we love them.

But at the same time, romance is hard. I always said that I would never be one of those women who “let myself go” or stopped romancing my husband after a few years together. But listen, friends: that shit can be hard to keep up with. Take into account two full time jobs (or even one full time job), household chores, a pregnancy, a baby, or multiple children and the romance factor tends to take a backseat. It’s not so easy to be spontaneous, passionate and romantic when you’ve got an hour commute to work, a schedule completely opposite of your husband, a dog that you have to feed Xanax to get through any kind of holiday that incorporates fireworks, and a gradually growing pregnant belly. I can just imagine how it is with people who have multiple children! Those date nights are so important but they’re few and far between because other stuff just takes over!

So I would like to offer you a few tips to romance your significant other because sometimes, we all need a little help. And to be real with you, sometimes we all need a little lovin’. I wouldn’t be a real social worker if I didn’t at least suggest some solutions to the hectic nature of daily life.

1. Date Night! I’m a big believer in romantic dinners but that’s just my personal style. I like dark, romantic restaurants where you could hear a pin drop. If that doesn’t set the mood for a little romance, I don’t know what does.

But for those of you who are more of a “fun seeking”, adventure crowd, find what works for you! There’s a great zip lining park in Tampa that has various level obstacle courses to accommodate professional cruise zip liners AND people who have no idea what they’re doing. Find a local outing that’s close to where you live, like the Florida State Fair or Disney World and just walk around holding hands for the day! Or, get a movie on Red Box, order some take out or make a nice dinner and snuggle up with your significant other and some wine. You know what they say, proximity breeds affection.

2. I know that I’m a former Victoria’s Secret employee, so I’m always going to have amazing things to say about them and my experience there, but I am a big supporter of lingerie. My personal favorite thing to do is to wear it under regular clothes, when my husband least expects it, as a nice little after dinner surprise!

But everyone is different! At the moment, I’m not feeling so comfortable (or MILF-y!) but I always try to look presentable and “sexy” around my husband because I like sparking the romance. A few of my girlfriends have even done beautiful, provocative boudoir shoots for their husbands for birthdays and anniversaries. I don’t think I’ve seen a sweeter, more romantic gift for your partner.

3. Something else that I think really works with keeping the romance alive is little reminders. No one is saying you need to drop your entire social work salary on an expensive bottle of vintage rum but sometimes it can be nice to know that your significant other is thinking about you. Personally, my husband is extremely low maintenance. He likes steak, grilling, going to the beach and scratch off tickets. He’s not one of those people that you can really “surprise” because he just goes with the flow. If I came home and said, “Surprise, I got the mail before walking to the front door today!” he would probably throw me a party.

I just try to remember what little things he likes when I get the tickle to surprise him. Sometimes I’ll just run to the grocery store to grab something for dinner and come back with a couple scratch off tickets for him. I think they’re a total crock and a waste of money but it’s all worth it to see him hunch over our counter and scratch them off. Sometimes I’ll bake him cupcakes or buy him Oreo cookies because I know he loves to lay in bed and eat them while we watch Family Guy. It’s not like it’s anything that’s necessarily big or important but it’s a nice way to say, “You know what? I love you and I’ve been thinking about how wonderful you are all day. Here’s a reminder in case you forget.”

4. Have fun! This is probably one of the biggest things I struggle with because of my chronic anxiety. Sure, I can relax just like anyone else with a couple martinis and a few days off from work. But sometimes life gets a little crazy and I start worrying about things for no apparent reason. This can be something of a damper on my relationship and although I can’t necessarily control it all the time, it’s something that I try to be mindful of. Especially in times of romance! Insecurities are a romance killer, friends. They’re like men repellant!  

Sometimes when anxiety builds up, it can be hard to remember that your biggest supporter is sitting right next to you. Sometimes when things seem like they’re spinning out of control, it can be hard to recognize that your significant other is going through it all with you; that you aren’t alone and it will get better. Sometimes I think I don’t give my husband enough credit for all the nonsense he puts up with regarding my anxiety and crazy personality. But I try to relax and have fun when we’re together because the only thing that comes from worrying is nasty wrinkles in your forehead!

5. Let them take the lead! Something that comes with anxiety is being something of a control freak. I have to know what’s going on all the time, with everything, and I think sometimes that can be overwhelming. My husband is irrevocably easy going and just reminds me that everything will work itself out but sometimes I think to myself, maybe if I just let him have this one, I wouldn’t be worrying so much.

And another thing to remember is that men like taking control. And I don’t mean this in a morbid, Fifty Shades of Grey kind of way. I mean, come on, I’m still a domestic violence advocate. But I think that most men really thrive on taking care of their women. I think that most men enjoy feeling like they’re in charge of the home, the monetary accounts, and keeping their woman happy. I know with my husband, personally, he likes to feel like he’s always protecting me, he’s always making sure I’m satisfied, and like I’m always taken care of because he’s my provider. He likes to know that he’s the first person I run to with all my problems and although I think on some level, he gets annoyed by my thousand text messages a day, he likes it because he knows I need him.

And everybody likes to feel needed. That sense of importance in another person’s life is absolutely intoxicating.

6. Tell them you love them. I’ve heard people say that when you say “I love you” too much it loses its value. Personally, I disagree with that. I say “I love you” to my husband about a million times a day, and I make sure it’s the last thing I say before we go to bed or before one of us leaves. My theory is that if something were to happen in our sleep or on our travels to work, I want the last words I verbalized to be “I love you”.

But sometimes it’s so much more than that. Lately, with all the big changes in my life, I’ve been feeling really overwhelmed. Typically, I’m an independent individual and I like to do things on my own (remember, I’m the neurotic control freak?) but with all of the changes to my already insane schedule, I’ve needed lots of help. And honestly, while everyone in my life has been really supportive and understanding, my husband is the one who bears the brunt of it all. He has been picking up the slack wherever he can and has been so helpful with all of the things I’ve had going on.

I’m usually pretty good about being in touch with my feelings (imagine that!) and letting him know I appreciate him but lately, I’ve really made it a point to tell him. Sometimes when we’re working at home and the house is quiet, I’ll turn to him and tell him how much I appreciate all of his help, how much I love him, and how much I really admire his ability to get his hands dirty and help. No matter what it is that I ask him to do.

And sometimes, being on the other end of it, just hearing that someone appreciates you, can go a really long way. I know that he knows I appreciate him. But I think hearing it is a completely different sensation.

I hope that these suggestions provide some assistance and relief for you and I hope that you all had a beautiful, red and pink, enjoyable Valentine’s Day, whether you celebrated or not. If you haven’t found love yet and you’re on the singles’ boat, just know that your soul mate is out there. And maybe he doesn’t want to be rushed. Maybe he’s still finding himself.

But above all things, I hope you still believe in love, no matter what happens to you. You know, they say that true love can be found in the one that makes you laugh. I’ve also heard that you’ll be happiest if you marry your best friend.

Luckily for me, I did both.

Yours are the sweetest eyes I’ve ever seen. –Elton John, Your Song

Follow me at my twitter page @thatcrzk8 for more updates and rants about my neurotic abnormalities and celebrity obsessions. Be sure to subscribe to my up and coming YouTube channel to stay up to date on the things that grind my gears, specials about domestic violence awareness, and reasons I love my South African, jerky making husband! More videos to come soon!