My husband and I don’t celebrate Valentine’s Day. Sure, our first year together I bought him a wall mounted can crusher and maybe three years ago we went out to dinner because our favorite brunch place was having a prix fixe dinner deal, but those were both matters of timing moreso than any need to honor the day. When people ask why we don’t celebrate Valentine’s Day, I usually mumble something semi-nonconfrontational about blind consumerism, and not liking to be told what to do, and being so willing to celebrate our love to each other for the remaining 364 days out of each year that we don’t feel compelled to conform to some hyper-gendered heteronormative courtship ritual just because a greeting card company tries to insinuate that our love is false if we don’t obey the February 14 card-and-chocolate-mandate. From now on, though I’m just going to hand the curious a print-out of Twisty’s most recent post “How cheap is your love?

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