valentine

Today's entry was written as a part of an On Display collaboration. Assignment this month: "Send yourself a Valentine".

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The worst Valentine's Day in my life happened when I was in the thirteenth grade at Bramalea Secondary School.

Until then, I had really never cared that boys weren't interested in me. Or maybe I'm just telling myself I didn't care, subconsciously smoothing the rough edges of my childhood so that it's easier to talk about.

I had crushes in school, of course, but realistically never expected anything in return...the boys I had crushes on were always interested in other girls: the pretty, self-confident girls with stylish clothes and hair. Immersed in my schoolwork, Senior Band, and the Library Club (I'm sure that knowledge alone would have been enough to send any boy running in terror), I never had much real interest in the whole boy-girl mushystuff dynamic. At least until Valentine's Day in my last year of high school.

The school council had come up with the idea of a interclass rose delivery service. For about a buck, you could sign up to have a rose delivered to anyone in the school. I didn't pay much attention to all this fuss until Valentine's Day morning, in homeroom class. Girls all over the room squealed with delight as they found roses on their desks. My friend Christine had seven.

And then it gradually dawned on me...I was the only girl in the entire class who didn't get a rose.

I remember sitting rigidly at my desk, hands folded in front of me, pretending that I didn't notice, my face flaming. It was the first time in my life that I truly regretted being different from the other girls, regretted being known as a browner (class brain) instead of just one of the gang.

I think I must have missed "girl" classes back in my childhood. Makeup, fashion, parties and boys...they held zero interest for me. I was always much happier with my head buried in a book. But I never felt lonely or isolated, at least not until that one Valentine's Day.

If I had access to a time machine, I would send my younger self a Valentine as well as two dozen sweetheart roses, and in my Valentine would be written the following:


"It's good to be different.

You will eventually meet someone wonderful who thinks you're wonderful, too.

-Don't- go for the more difficult Calculus course next year in university."



(Okay, so that last bit has nothing to do with Valentine's but hey, if I have access to a time machine I figure I might as well take advantage of it)

Happy Valentine's Day, everyone. :-)

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Today's Blatherpic:

- The two boys in the Valentine at the top of this page were the heartthrobs of my childhood...Bobby Faltynek and Norm Brown. How I worshipped them (from afar)!