When I was in fifth grade, I remember receiving a holographic Valentine’s Day card that said “you’re a cool cat.”

I believed it, too. I thought being called a “cool cat” by a guy was a straight shot to a relationship by the next February. After all, I would be starting middle school and what better place to find my forever man than at a crowded school full of 12-year-olds?  

As a fifth grader, I thought it was horrific to be single on Valentine’s Day, but that was the last year I entertained such thinking.

I realized there are worse things (missing scholarship deadlines, forgetting to turn off your curling iron, hitting a cat on the way to school, etc.) that could befall upon a female teenager. I also realized that most middle school relationships are disasters that even meteorologists didn’t see coming.

There are a lot of people my age, single usually, who are just really bitter toward Valentine’s Day. They say going out and lavishing a significant other with presents is too expensive and a waste of  time. They say it is not even a real holiday (I don’t completely disagree). They say that Valentine’s Day is for couples who are too obsessed with each other and just feel the need to tell the whole world how much love they have for each other.

I say more power to the latter people. What is so wrong with a day where it is socially acceptable to be loving and affectionate? Is it that bad to be surrounded by heart shaped balloons and tempted by chocolate on every grocery store aisle? Is being forced to listen to James Arthur’s “Say You Won’t Let Go” really going to kill you?

No, and Valentine’s Day shouldn’t either, unless you are the Grinch himself or a hater of Punxsutawney Phil.

Am I being too harsh? Let me rephrase: if you have ever felt loved in your life, if you have friends and family, or if you can just afford to buy a Hershey’s bar, you have no right to complain on V-Day. 

It is easy to sit around moping that you are not being picked up by a hot date at 8. It is easy to binge-watch Hallmark movies while simultaneously cursing the universe that you do not have a cuddle partner (have you ever tried a dog, though?) and getting mad at yourself that you did not buy tissues before watching Leap Year.

It is easy to feel entitled to romantic love. But, man, how often are you grateful that there is just some kind of love in your life?

I think the sole reason that I am not bitter about Valentine’s Day or lonely is because I know how loved I am. No, I do not mean that I have guys falling at my feet and ringing my doorbell with giant elephant stuffed animals (I have a thing for elephants) or bringing me gummy bears. I mean that I have experienced all of my Valentine’s Days with real love: the kind of love that does not waver.

The kind of love that looks you in the eye when you are too sick with a heart condition and don’t want to get out of bed one more day and it whispers, “you won’t fight for yourself, but I will.” The kind of love that drives across town at 12 a.m. to buy printer ink because it knows you have a research paper due in the morning. The kind of love that lets you cry when your pet hermit crab dies even though it seems like such grief is silly. The kind of love that reminds you of your unshakable beauty when your skin is so broken out that you do not want to look in the mirror. The kind of love that stays by your bed when you have a cough just to make sure you have water whenever you need it. The kind of love that looks at you at your worst, when you have made so many mistakes and can never get it right, and it says: you are still worth saving. The kind of love that lets you feel all tingly inside when the sun rises and it is summer, and the lawnmowers are mowing, and the birds are chirping, and the black asphalt is glimmering from previous rain, and your neighbors are laughing, and all is right in the world. The kind of love that adores you not only on one day of the year, but on all of the other days, too.

Once you have been loved so extravangently, so steadfastly, so forgivingly…you cannot be bitter at a holiday that honors this feeling. 

Love is not always what Cupid makes it out to be, but it always worth celebrating. 

This Valentine’s Day, I will allow myself to rejoice with those who are happy in relationships and rejoice with those who are happy without them. I hope you give yourself that permission, too.