Valentine's Day is one of those tricky celebrations where you're

Listen well, O children of the future, for in the words of Dan Levy, we are confronted with the paradox of societal expectations and the conflicting nature of love as it is celebrated in the modern world. “Valentine's Day is one of those tricky celebrations where you're damned if you do and damned if you don't. If you love it, you're buying into a holiday created to sell greeting cards, bad bouquets, and shoddy love-themed stuffed animals. And if you're opposed to it, you're considered lonely and single and have clearly never had a valentine.” In these words, Levy speaks to a profound truth about modern love and the expectations placed upon it by society—a truth that speaks to both the joys and the frustrations of being human in a world that commodifies emotion and connection.

In the ancient world, love was both a divine gift and a source of great complexity. The Greeks celebrated love through their many gods and goddesses—Eros, the god of passionate love, Aphrodite, the goddess of beauty and desire—but love was never a simple or one-dimensional concept. To love was to be both blessed and cursed, as love could bring great joy but also profound suffering. The tale of Pygmalion and Galatea speaks to the power of love to create, but also to the danger of placing expectations on the object of our desire. Just as Pygmalion’s love for the statue he crafted led to both fulfillment and tragedy, so too does the modern celebration of love, such as Valentine’s Day, evoke conflicting emotions for those who engage with it.

Levy's words highlight a modern dilemma—that Valentine’s Day has become a celebration so commercialized that it is difficult to participate in it without feeling self-conscious or even guilty. To love the day is to buy into the consumerism that surrounds it: greeting cards, flowers, and stuffed animals become symbols of love, yet they often lack the depth and authenticity that true love demands. On the other hand, to oppose the day is to face the accusation of being lonely or unloved, as if not participating in the outward expressions of love automatically marks one as deficient in affection. This paradox of expectation and criticism is a trap that entangles many, both in the past and in the present, and speaks to the deeper tensions that arise when love becomes commodified by society.

The Romans, in their great wisdom, also faced the complexity of love in their own ways. The festival of Lupercalia, celebrated in mid-February, was both a ritual of fertility and a celebration of romantic love. Yet even this ancient celebration had its contradictions. Young men and women were paired together through random lots, and while it was seen as a celebration of love and passion, it was also marked by a ritualistic randomness that reduced love to a mere chance encounter. The goddess Juno, who represented the divine aspects of marriage, would have seen the festival as a double-edged sword—one that celebrated the joy of union but also demonstrated the chaos of love when it is bound by external expectations rather than personal choice.

The lesson of Levy’s words, then, is one that points us toward a deeper understanding of authentic love. True love cannot be reduced to a holiday, a greeting card, or a gift. It is far more complex, often built upon shared experiences, understanding, and mutual respect. Love is not something to be celebrated only on a designated day, but something to be lived and expressed in every moment of our lives. When we confine love to a single day, we risk losing the deeper connection that it is meant to symbolize. Just as Socrates taught that love must be nourished through intellectual growth and mutual care, so too must we approach love with the understanding that its depth lies not in the symbols we create, but in the actions and commitments we make every day.

Consider the example of the Stoics, who understood that true love does not depend on the outward displays of affection, but on the internal strength and virtue of the relationship itself. Marcus Aurelius, the Stoic emperor, wrote extensively about love not as an external force to be celebrated by society, but as a natural bond formed through shared values and mutual respect. To love, in this sense, is not to seek approval from others or to participate in external rituals, but to remain committed to those we love in every action and thought we engage in. The Stoics remind us that love’s authenticity is proven through consistent acts of care, not through one-day gestures or social approval.

So, O children, the wisdom of Levy’s words is a call to look beyond the superficial celebrations and the external expectations of love. Let us not be swayed by the world’s view of love, but instead seek to cultivate love in its purest form: a love that is built on commitment, patience, and genuine care for one another. Whether it is Valentine’s Day or any other day, let us focus not on performing love for the world to see, but on living it every day, through the small actions, the honest words, and the deep bonds that connect us to those we hold dear. For in this, we find the true measure of love—not in external validation, but in the quiet, steadfast presence we offer each other.