Twenty-six years in a row I had someone by my side. Someone to pour my love into. Someone to anchor the day.

This year, I’m alone.

For a minute, that old ache tried to run the script. Loss. Absence. Failure. The familiar whisper of fear. Fear of abandonment. Fear of rejection. Fear that love somehow slipped through my fingers for good.

And then I said fuck that and changed the frame.

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Emotional Sobriety Looks Good on Me

This is the face of emotional sobriety.

This is what loving myself unconditionally actually looks like.

This is what following my manifesto looks like.

Today I told someone close something I’ve never said out loud before:

I have never loved myself this deeply. I have never felt this good in my own skin.

Three months ago, that wasn’t true. I had lost myself. I didn’t know who I was.

Honestly, I still don’t have all the answers.

But I do know this:

I am my own best friend.
I am my fiercest ally.

And that changes everything.

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Everyone Is My Valentine Now

So I decided if I didn’t have a Valentine, then EVERYONE was going to be my Valentine.

I walked 9.5 miles all over town today hand-hearting strangers like it was my job.
Maybe it is my job now. Maybe I am just going to do it forever.

Actually, not maybe, its now my new thing.

🫶🫶🫶

Smiles everywhere.
Some confused looks.
Even better, return hand hearts and smiles.

I bought five balloons at the dollar store. Lost two accidentally. Gave two to ladies with heartbreakingly sad, single faces. Instant transformations. One balloon stayed with me, tied to my backpack, floating behind me like a moving declaration.

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Heart Balloons, Awkward Men, and Free Dopamine

Some people didn’t know what to do with it.

Especially the grumpy men.
Tight jaws. Dead eyes. Zero smiles.

Like love is dangerous. Or contagious. Or somehow unmanly.

I laughed.

I teased the moment just a little. I watched how it hit differently when their women smiled back or threw a hand heart right past them. You could feel the discomfort.

Good.

I’m a lover.
And apparently a bit of a troll. 😈

I get joy cracking open rigid places.
Natural dopamine.
Free. Renewable. Shared.

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Love Is a Verb, Not a Guest List

What I realized today is this:

Valentine’s Day isn’t about tallying who’s missing.
It’s about how I show up.

It’s about loving the world the way I want to be loved.
Big. Open. Unfiltered. Without permission. Unconditionally.

I don’t need to ration my heart anymore.
I can give it everywhere I go.

Even when it devastates me.

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Slow Burns, Calm Nervous Systems, and Actual Peace

Today I’m celebrating my freedom and my growth.

I’m 38 days completely sober.
I’m present.

I’m dancing again.

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I’m not repeating the old loops that used to run my life.

The old fears still exist somewhere in my history, but they aren’t driving the car. I’m not rushing. I’m not trying to lock anything down. I don’t feel clingy. I don’t feel trapped. I don’t feel like I have to impress anyone.

I just get to be me.

Weird. Wonderful. Happy. Joyous.

For the first time, emotional connection is coming before physical chemistry. A slow burn. Gentle. Spacious. My nervous system fucking loves it. That alone tells me I’m doing something right.

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Would I be sad if a meaningful connection disappeared? Of course. I’m human.
But I’m not anxious.
I’m not bracing for loss.

I’m simply here. In the moment.

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Not Alone. Whole. Loud About It.

So today wasn’t about being alone.

It was about being whole.
It was about choosing love as a verb, not a contract.
About walking through the world with my heart visible, even when it makes people uncomfortable.

Especially then.

Happy Valentine’s Day. ❤️
I hope yours is filled with love.

And if you didn’t have one person to share it with tonight?

Take a page from my book.
Share it with everyone.

🫶

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