I’ve been married to my husband a few years, but we’ve been in each other’s lives for over a decade. We’ve seen a dozen Valentine’s Day. We’ve celebrated in tiny little apartments, at posh restaurants, in (illegally) candle lit dorm rooms, at couple’s spas, and even at romantic beach front bed and baths. We’ve held each other tight and hated each other’s guts on Valentine’s Day. It’s rare that you go can from teenager to grown (wo)man with another human being without a ton of passion and some sprinkling of drama. We’ve grown up together and we’ve glown up together.
Needless to say, I’m an old pro at Valentine’s Day, I’ve spent the holiday in a whirlwind of romance and crying from a desolate feeling of otherness and sadness. I have a soberer and realistic view of the holiday. I’ve planned out romantic dates and I’ve felt the shame of forgetting the holiday altogether and neglected to pull my own romantic weight in the relationship. (And one thing I have learned in marriage is husbands need romance, they need their soul and bodies stroked by the person they’ve pledged a lifetime to.)
In January, I was in a dark place (triggered by the social and political climate) and spent a significant amount of time exercising self-care in the form of binge reading nearly a dozen books. Much to the benefit of my husband, a couple of those books had a young love subplot. These stories of love first captured, first kissed, first caressed had me all in my emotions and in my memories. I entered February nostalgic as heck and with a form of tunnel vision for my marriage that I honestly haven’t had in 2-3 years. We’ve spent quite a few hours recently in couple’s therapy and trying to rekindle a relationship that felt dull and discontent; but a few YA novels and well written fiction jumpstarted my imagination and shifted my perspective.
I entered February with an idea (as captioned beneath an Instagram photo):
It’s February, it’s the commercial month of love, but it’s also a good reminder of the magic of real love. This month I’ve challenged myself to prioritize romance and connection. Lingering kisses. Long languid hugs. Shameless flirting. Random lunch dates with stolen smooches. A slight sensational reliving of our honeymoon phase. This cost almost nothing and will add to the quality of our relationship for months to come. I might write a TMI post on reliving your honeymoon phase, but for now, I challenge you to expand your ideas and expectations of what Valentine’s Day could be for you and the one you love.
Here is where the TMI starts
(where I recommend my nieces/nephews with internet access stop reading – please and thank you babies. Your young auntie loves you, therefore I warned you.)
For my husband and I, Valentine’s Day started at the end of January. Started with Saturday morning sex. Saturday afternoon brunches at peak hipster, Instagramable vegan restaurants. Started with mid-day make out sessions during lunchtime rendezvous’. It created an atmosphere of intimacy. We pressed against each other on living room after the babies went to bed. We kissed until my lips ached and swelled. He laughed against my neck and kissed my stretch marks. The passion was palpable in our relationship. We were in that peak honeymoon phase again, both physically and emotionally.
I’m not a romance novelist, so I lack the words to adequately describe all the emotional love making that was happening in our marriage. But the sex was amazing and he did not annoy me as much as he usually did (honest blog). I didn’t look at him and look for flaws. I didn’t thwart most of his advances. I didn’t critique his attempts at preparing dinner (even when he burned it) or dressing the kids for schools (even when he dressed our daughter in her brother’s clothes two days in a row). I didn’t roll at my eyes at his eccentricities. I looked at him in his entirety and simply loved him as is. Something he (pretty much) does daily, but I struggle at.
But I learned a few things about what did takes to relive your honeymoon phase anytime during your marriage:
Sometimes you have to choose to be happy and contented.
It takes a shift in perspective. I’m a glass half empty, worst case scenario dooms day prepper type. I had to shift to a glass half full way of thinking. I had to wake up and choose joy. I had to focus on the things I found the most irresistible and endearing about my husband. I had to have tunnel vision for the sparkly magical parts of our marriage.
Sometimes you have to make out like teenagers.
Let me tell you about our first kiss. I was 18, a freshman in college, and new to town. Wearing a floral dress from Forever 21. It complemented everything I felt confident about physically and camouflaged all the other bits. We were on the roof top of some club college students frequented. Completely sober, because neither of us have ever been keen on alcoholic drinks. We were dancing close against some sort of structural column in the middle of the dance floor and our lips kept brushing against each other’s face for a few songs or so. Then, Beyoncé’s Baby Boy came on, all my BEST dance moves were perfected in my bedroom to Destiny’s Child and Beyoncé albums. Homeboy did NOT stand a chance. If I had any feminine wiles, they are all on instant and subconscious display at this very moment of peak boldness and dancefloor fervor. We started kissing, nay making out the dance floor, while still dancing. We drew cheers from the crowd and when it ended, I was shocked and flustered. It was the kiss of a lifetime.
This little walk down memory lane was just a verbose way of saying: kiss your husband, linger in it, engage it with the kid of fervor you had when so many things were new and exciting. Like from a time when a call from him made you grin to yourself like a fool. When a text from him had you feeling yourself and your style with extreme confidence. To a time when you didn’t know if a kiss would end there or turn into something more… KISS your man with the fervor of your youth and naivety and watch the tides turn.
(Sidenote: after the club and while he was driving me back to the dorms and walking me to my hall, I was in a constant state of nervous because I feared that he thought I was going to have sex with him, I was not having the sex at this time and I was terrified that I led him to believe otherwise. Thank the lord he was of the virginal mindset. He had to be to survive me channeling Beyoncé.)
Sometimes you have to say yes to him in your mind and then with your body.
Having sex nearly every day, sometimes multiple times a day is a damn game changer. Intentional sex, inclusive of sexy thoughts, turns the tides in your romantic relationship. Sometimes he would already be asleep next to me (he’s dinural and I’m nocturnal) and I would wonder: how many kisses would it take to rouse him from slumber? These type of thoughts would stir something in me, shift sex from a chore to an adventure; to something wistful and fun.
Relax and unwind!
Create the space in your mind, body and spirit for love. Get some self-care going. Activate your creative self. Find that version of you that is more than your profession or your current situation. Find your inner joy. Truth be told, the healthiest and happiest version of you is the best gift that can be offered to the one you love.
Save your money, your sanity and your relationship; rethink your Valentine’s Day and how you express yourself in love every day.
What did you say?