(Blog image by Tom LaBaff)

This is my first Valentine’s as a self-married woman.

As a single woman, I sometimes hated this holiday, labeling it “commercial” and “Single’s Awareness Day.”  I laughed at my Dad for getting engaged and then married on Valentine’s, teasing him for making sure he won’t forget his anniversary.

When I was in relationships in the past, Valentine’s was pretty hit or miss.  I never had a super romantic partner who would wow me with some creative, perfectly suited plans and gifts.

But this is my chance, right?  Being my own wife means I have the opportunity to have the best Valentine’s ever!

Whether I am in a relationship with another person or not, I always get to choose how I feel about and on any given day.  No matter what history a particular day has for me, I still get to choose whether to celebrate it, ignore it, appreciate it, or mourn it.

I thought about marrying myself for years before I finally did it on my 33^rd birthday, May 9^th 2014.  (I’ll never forget my own anniversary!)

I first read about the concept in the blogs of two women I follow and admire: Dianne Sylvan and Leonie Dawson.  You can see those posts here and here.

At the time I read those posts, I was fighting lifelong Major Depressive Disorder, and losing.  I hated myself.  I wanted to love myself, but I didn’t know how.  I didn’t even know how to like myself at that point.  My self-worth relied entirely on praise and attention from other people.  When someone was upset with me or didn’t like me, I felt crushed and worthless and begged my friends for reassurance that I wasn’t all bad.

 Depression doesn’t feel like that to everyone who suffers from it, by the way.  Depression often expresses as a feeling that nothing you do changes anything, so why bother trying - there’s no hope and no one cares enough to help.  It’s a distorted view of the world toward powerlessness.

As a depressed woman, I was very good at committing myself to the happiness of my friends and lovers.  I went above and beyond in my attempts to make sure my loved ones felt valued, that they knew I was there for them no matter what.

The idea that I could do that for myself, that I should do that for myself, was difficult to wrap my mind around at first.

Though I had no idea how I would do it, the moment I first read about self-marriage, I knew I wanted that for myself.  Just wanting it, thinking about it, what it would mean to me, was enough to help me start moving away from a depressive mindset and into a more empowered place.

I talked about it at workshops I led and with friends around the campfire.  I wrote about it in my journal, and read about it online and in books I found in used book stores.  I kept putting it off because I was too embarrassed to invite people, even people who loved me, to a celebration of self-love.

Finally, on my birthday last year I decided it was time, and I didn’t need any witnesses other than myself and my connection with divinity.  I didn’t need props or decorations, pretty words perfectly typed or memorized, the perfect location, or the perfect symbol of my commitment.  I had all of that inside me.  I chose the ring I always wore that represents to me my connection with divinity, and I made my vows to myself right there in my sanctuary, my bedroom.

Most importantly, I meant them.  I committed myself to my own happiness and health, to support and encourage myself no matter what, and I meant it.

Part of that commitment to me means choosing to celebrate and appreciate each day I am blessed with, in any way I see fit.

So for my first Valentine’s as a self-married woman, I choose to celebrate by practicing radical self-love: 

I will massage organic coconut oil into my dry skin, wear my favorite clothes that I feel comfortable and pretty in.

I will make my own dark chocolate treats (and buy discount Godiva on Discount Chocolate Day, which is a whole other celebration.) 

I will write myself a poem and a letter on pretty paper with pretty doodles and frame them and put them on my wall so I can read them whenever I need a boost. 

I might treat myself to a meal that costs more than I normally feel comfortable spending, or I might cook something more gourmet than I usually feel like taking the time to cook. 

I will look into my own eyes and smile and tell me that I love me and appreciate me just the way I am, and I won’t feel silly saying it, because after all these years it’s finally true.