Valentine’s Day: A Solo Mom’s Way

Love is worth the wait

I have an imposter complex. I’m not sure if it’s an actual “condition,” but I’ve got it anyway. I’ve always suffered from it.

As a child, if someone told me I was pretty, I thought it was because the person hadn’t noticed my towering height, bruised knees, goofy teeth, freckles, and ruler-straight hair. As a music major in college, I was certain it’d be discovered that I couldn’t really play the piano. And writing — Lord knows I’ve bullshit my way through that world. It’s only a matter of time before everyone realizes I can’t write my way out of a paper paragraph. Clearly, I was an imposter at marriage. And as a mother . . . I’ve pulled it off so far, but at some point everyone will figure out I don’t know what the hell I’m doing there, either.

But my imposter complex manifests even greater with matters of the heart; ergo, nothing makes me squirm quite like Valentine’s Day. Seriously — do we really have to do this?

If you’re in a crappy marriage, Valentine’s Day is akin to a bright spotlight shining on the hopelessness of your relationship, accompanied by a 52-piece Sousa march and over-the-top fireworks display. I played the part of “wife” — but unhappy, lonely, and disappointed does not make for an enthusiastic Valentine. It took eight years before I was busted and fired.

Since then, I’ve had a tiny trickle of Valentine’s Day dates. Starting with the midnight bell of New Year’s Eve, some of us Solo Moms circle our prey in anticipation of the following month’s romantically momentous event. I don’t want to be single on V-Day. I can’t be single on V-Day — because the world tells me I’m a loser if I am.

Somehow, though, I manufacture a relationship, and weeks before February 14, I make the dinner reservation. After all, he’s a man; he won’t do it.

The big night has arrived, yet I don’t feel particularly amorous. I eat my salad and drink too much cheap champagne as I realize I don’t love this guy . . . I don’t even like him that much. My mind wanders: Do I have to sleep with him? The kids have school tomorrow. I didn’t wax, and I’m tired! I chide myself, It’s Valentine’s Day; I’m supposed to feel more than this. But I don’t feel more. I’m no Valentine. I’m an imposter.

Continue reading at: https://esme.com/voices/perspectives/valentines-day-a-solo-moms-way