Valentine's Day is a holiday of high emotions, mostly stress.
Valentine's Day is a holiday of high emotions, mostly stress. The occasion has the unique ability to make both those who do participate in it and those who don't feel vaguely unfulfilled.
Hear now the wry but piercing words of Mary Katharine Ham, who observed: “Valentine’s Day is a holiday of high emotions, mostly stress. The occasion has the unique ability to make both those who do participate in it and those who don't feel vaguely unfulfilled.” In this saying lies a truth not about swords and kingdoms, but about the human heart in its modern rites. For here is revealed the paradox of a festival meant to celebrate love, yet often transformed into a burden, a mirror that reflects not joy but dissatisfaction, not serenity but striving.
The origin of this saying is rooted in the modern age, where Valentine’s Day has been shaped as much by commerce as by affection. Once tied to legends of Saint Valentine, a martyr who, it is said, upheld the sacredness of love and devotion, the day has become wrapped in rituals of expectation: the buying of flowers, the exchange of cards, the proving of devotion through grand gestures. Ham, with sharp wit, unmasks this: that the weight of expectation breeds stress, and the absence of participation breeds a quieter sorrow, so that many feel caught in its snare whether they celebrate or not.
History itself shows how festivals of love and fertility often carried shadows of pressure. The ancient Romans celebrated Lupercalia, a wild and chaotic feast said to ensure fertility and fortune. Yet even then, not all rejoiced; some were excluded, some burdened by the rituals, some left unfulfilled. So too in our own day: the festival meant for joy becomes, in its extremes, a measure of worth, dividing those who meet its demands and those who feel left wanting. Thus Ham’s words strike with timeless clarity: love cannot thrive when shackled to expectation.
Consider the story of a young couple overwhelmed by Valentine’s customs. The man, anxious to impress, spends beyond his means on gifts and dinners. The woman, burdened by comparison, wonders whether her joy is enough if it does not match the extravagance of others. And consider the solitary soul, who feels the day as a reminder not of love’s promise, but of absence. In each case, the day that should be tender becomes a source of unrest, proving Ham’s wisdom that both the participant and the abstainer may feel unfulfilled.
Yet her words are not only critique—they are also invitation. They remind us that the true essence of love is not performance, but presence; not spectacle, but sincerity. The ancient poets sang of love not with roses bought in haste, but with verses born of the heart. The great lovers of history—Dante for Beatrice, Petrarch for Laura—found fulfillment not in the market of gifts, but in the eternal bond of devotion and memory. Love needs no holiday to be real; it is the daily bread of the spirit.
What lesson, then, must we take? That we must resist the illusion that love is proven by outward tokens alone. We must not let a single day define the measure of our relationships, nor allow its absence to diminish our worth. Love, whether romantic, familial, or fraternal, is best expressed in constancy—in patience, kindness, and sacrifice over time. The stress of Valentine’s Day can be cast aside when we remember that love is not an occasion but a way of being.
Practical action lies in simplicity. Let gestures of affection be authentic, not forced. Cherish those you love on all days, not only the one marked in red on the calendar. And for those who walk without a partner, do not see the day as a verdict of loneliness, but as a chance to cultivate love in friendships, in family, in community. For the heart was made not only for romance but for compassion, service, and generosity. The truest victory over unfulfillment is to give love freely, without demand.
So let Ham’s words echo not as condemnation, but as reminder: “Valentine’s Day is a holiday of high emotions, mostly stress.” If this is true, then let us strip away the stress and reclaim the heart of love itself—steady, humble, enduring. For when love is freed from expectation, it ceases to wound and begins to heal, binding us not only to one another, but to the timeless truth that love, in its purest form, is greater than any holiday.
DNDuy Nhat
Ham's take on Valentine’s Day is so relatable. The holiday often brings about anxiety, whether from trying to meet expectations or feeling like you're missing out. It makes me question: why do we set such high expectations for one day? Can we shift our mindset to make love, care, and affection something we express every day, rather than feeling the need to go overboard on a single day?
CMnguyen cong minh
I completely understand the feeling of unfulfillment Ham describes. Valentine’s Day, with all its commercialism and societal expectations, often brings stress instead of joy. It’s funny how something meant to celebrate love can create feelings of inadequacy. What if we approached Valentine’s Day differently—perhaps focusing on small, personal moments of love instead of grand gestures? Could that make the holiday less overwhelming?
PPPhuc Pham
Mary Katharine Ham’s quote really makes me think about how we often tie our self-worth to external celebrations like Valentine’s Day. Whether you’re in a relationship or not, the day can leave you feeling either overly pressured or strangely empty. Why are we so tied to these calendar events to define how we express love? Can we focus on love in a more meaningful, less stressful way?
THlai thu huong
I think Ham raises an interesting point—Valentine’s Day has become less about true love and more about social pressure and commercial expectations. For those who feel left out, it can be a day full of frustration, not celebration. How can we reclaim this day, not as a symbol of stress, but as an opportunity for connection in whatever form feels right, without the external pressures?
HBNgoc Nguyen Hoang Bao
Ham’s perspective on Valentine’s Day feels spot-on. The holiday is supposed to bring joy, but instead, it seems to heighten expectations and dissatisfaction for many. What does this say about how we view love? Is Valentine’s Day more about performance than genuine connection? Can we rethink this holiday in a way that reduces the pressure and allows for more authentic expressions of affection?