Valentine’s Day is supposed to be about romance, right? A day to celebrate your special someone? But we all know what it really is: a well-oiled machine of consumerism, selling the idea that love has to look like glitter, candles, and the kind of “spontaneity” you plan six weeks in advance. Love isn’t patient or kind on Valentine’s Day—it’s carefully choreographed and always comes with a price tag.

This is the time of year where we parade around pretending that love is best expressed through credit card debt and overpriced roses. If it’s not a fake red heart or a $6 greeting card trying to tell you how to feel, is it even love?

Let’s talk about the single people first, because this holiday doesn’t forget about them, it just has a different strategy. Valentine’s Day whispers in your ear, “You’re alone? You know what would fix that? Chocolate and sadness.” Then, it tortures you….and just to twist the knife a bit deeper, social media lights up with photos of couples looking just so obnoxiously in love, accompanied by hashtags such as: “#ForeverMyPerson ❤️.” Who are you people trying to fool? We all saw you two arguing over whose turn it was to buy toilet paper last week!

Now, for couples—this day is your time to shine… under immense social pressure. If you didn’t plan something romantic enough, expensive enough, or Instagrammable enough, you’ve completely  failed. Skip the roses and you’re cold-hearted. Go DIY and risk the shame of not spending enough. Valentine’s Day turns relationships into competitions, and the scoreboard is set by strangers on Facebook who use (again), hashtags like #LuckyToBeHis.

And let’s not ignore the romantic dinner ritual, an experience in misery disguised as luxury. You’re crammed into an overcrowded restaurant, eating from a menu where everything is suddenly truffle-infused and three times the usual price. Bonus points if you’ve booked so late that you’re stuck with a 5 PM reservation alongside deaf retirees and slobbering toddlers. Nothing says romance like shouting sweet nothings over the noise of clinking plates and bad ‘80’s cover bands.

And then there are the gifts. The most transactional part of the day. Because love isn’t real unless you slap a bow on it —just don’t forget to hang onto the receipt  in case your love partner isn’t a fan of your finely executed, well thought out purchase.

But what to get……Roses? Dead in a week. Chocolate? Gone in a night. Jewelry? Hope it comes with a solid return policy. Meanwhile, no one tells you that your partner probably just wanted a heartfelt moment, or maybe some quality Netflix and Chill time. Valentine’s Day, like a needy relationship insists that ‘buying stuff’ is the only way to prove you care.

But here’s the kicker: everything we’re pressured to do is so…temporary. By February 15th, the flowers are dead, the cards are in the trash, and the chocolates have been replaced by regret (and maybe a gym membership). What lingers? The credit card bill. Because nothing says “I love you” like a reminder of how far you’re willing to go into debt to impress someone.

And yet, the cycle continues every year. People lining up to buy into the idea that love is a production—something that’s only valuable if it looks good on camera or fits into a hashtag. The saddest part? We all know how empty it is, and we still play along. Why? Because it’s easier to keep up the charade than to admit Valentine’s Day is little more than a bad rom-com you can’t fast-forward through.

So, to those participating this year: I hope the $300 steak was worth it. And to those sitting out, good on you for not buying into the nonsense. Either way, don’t forget: love doesn’t need a reservation or a receipt. But on Valentine’s Day? It’ll take both.

by Rob Herholz