I don’t know about the rest of you, but for me, Valentine’s Day often feels rushed, manic, and a little frustrating—at least that’s been the case in our house in recent years.

We wake up, exchange a quick kiss, pull out a card, some chocolate, maybe a bunch of flowers, and think, Right. We’re good to go.

And by go, I mean the little one needs a nappy change, the older kids are starving NOW, and the calm, romantic moment we imagined disappears in about thirty seconds flat. The day starts with a relieved sigh—Thank goodness we both remembered—and then quickly spirals from there.

To make matters worse, there’s the added pressure of buying a gift (or making one) to prove just how much you love your partner. Fine, I’ll admit—it’s often self-imposed pressure. But that doesn’t make it any easier.

And sometimes, it’s not self-imposed at all.

“So,” she asked casually, “what is your husband getting you for Valentine’s Day? Anything exciting?”

I wanted to reply, Why? Does the size of the gift determine who has the better husband?

When did Valentine’s Day become such a sales gimmick?

Is that really how shallow we’ve become?

Forgive me while I step onto my soapbox for a moment.

I believe that simply having someone to celebrate Valentine’s Day with is a gift worth celebrating. Shouldn’t love be honoured every day—not just once a year?

The world would be a far more beautiful place if we started each day with small gifts: patience, kindness, thoughtfulness, a kiss goodbye, a lingering cuddle. The list could go on.

If we began each morning with appreciation for the one we love, the entire day would take a different direction. Marriages and relationships would be stronger and better equipped to weather the hard, gloomy days.

That said, I do understand that, like most important things, sometimes we need a reminder. And for that reason, I do see value in Valentine’s Day. If nothing else, it gives us a moment to pause and pay attention to the love already present in our lives.

But perhaps Valentine’s Day needs to be approached differently. More intentionally. More meaningfully.

So I decided to write a brief letter to the main culprit himself—Cupid—as my own attempt at reframing the day.

Dear Cupid, on Valentine’s Day…

If it’s all about you and not about us, kindly go away.

If it’s about plastic hearts and teddies that collect dust, I’m not interested.

If it’s about flowers that wilt and chocolates that disappear far too quickly, take it somewhere else.

Because the love of my life is with me every single day—in real, ordinary, beautiful ways.

He makes me laugh every day.
My pulse quickens when he smiles at me—every day.
And when he whispers that he loves me, it still matters—every day.

Even on the tough days, I experience real love.

So yes, the spoils and treats can be lovely—but what truly fills me is being reminded daily just how blessed I am. That’s what makes me feel complete. Not one day a year.

Here’s to appreciating the ones we love.

Every. Single. Day.