As you know, my last name is Valentine. I married into it, and I'd choose it (and him) again every time.
And listen, I'm not above a heart-shaped anything. Bring me the flowers, the chocolate, the ridiculous cards. I'm here for all of it.
But what I really love about this day? The reminder to notice the love that's already around you. All of it. Full stop.
Last week was a hard one. I felt left out, unseen, and emotionally beaten up. But I finished a book that wrecked me in the best way, cried so hard a stranger offered me tissues (I took them), and walked away with words I needed to hear.
So here's what I'm bringing to Valentine's Day this year: a little real talk, a comfort meal, some movement, a gift you buy yourself, and a question that might quietly rearrange your priorities.
Name It, Then Come Back to Love
The book is All the Glimmering Stars by Mark Sullivan. It's the true story of two teenagers kidnapped and forced to become child soldiers in Uganda. It's a heavy read. But woven through it are lessons about morality, love, and what it takes to stay human when everything is working against you. A dying shopkeeper teaches one of them about four voices of suffering: Rush, Violence, Lack, and Fear.
You can't get rid of them. They're part of being human. But when you name them, they quiet down.
Last week, the loudest voice for me was Lack. The one that whispers "not enough." Not doing enough. Not seen enough. Not valued enough.
My brain knew the hard stuff wasn't about me. My body needed a full day to catch up.
That gap between knowing something logically and feeling it in your body? It's not weakness. It's your nervous system doing its job. Your brain processes information quickly. Your body holds onto stress and releases it on its own timeline. That lag is normal, and it doesn't mean something is wrong with you.
What got me through: naming it. Then making a quiet mental list of what I already have. Not a big production. Not a gratitude journal with colour-coded tabs. Just paying attention. Warmth back in the heart. Lack goes quiet.
The most loving thing you can do for yourself when life gets loud is name what you're feeling instead of shoving it down. Give it a word. Let it sit there for a minute. And then gently redirect your attention to what's real and good and already yours.
If you want a place to start, try one of my guided meditations. They're short, beginner-friendly, and designed for people who think they can't meditate.
The Meal That Says I Love You
Cooking for someone is one of the purest expressions of love. It doesn't have to be complicated. It doesn't need a Pinterest board or a trip to three different grocery stores. It just has to come from a real place.
For me, it's spaghetti and meat sauce. My mom's kitchen. The smell of garlic and onions hitting a hot pan. That's home.
There's actual science behind why comfort food works. Familiar flavours activate your parasympathetic nervous system, the part of your body responsible for rest and calm. Your body recognizes safety through what it already knows. So when you eat something that reminds you of being cared for, your whole system settles.
This weekend, make something for someone you love. And that someone can absolutely be you. Skip the recipe scroll. Make the thing your hands already know how to make. The soup your grandmother made. The pancakes your kids ask for. The pasta that's never let you down.
Love doesn't always look like a reservation at a fancy restaurant. Sometimes it looks like a pot of sauce on the stove and someone setting the table without being asked.
Move With Someone You Love
Skip the solo workout this week. Grab someone and do something together.
Take a class neither of you has tried. Go for a hike. Try a dance class and laugh your way through it. Dust off the bikes. Walk around the neighbourhood with a coffee and no agenda.
Here's what happens when you move with another person: you talk more. You laugh more. You show up because someone's waiting for you. And you stop thinking of movement as a thing you "should" do and start treating it like connection time.
Research backs this up. Exercising with a partner increases accountability, boosts mood more than solo workouts, and strengthens your relationship at the same time. You don't have to train for a marathon together. You just have to show up.
Valentine's week challenge: ask someone to move with you. Bonus points if you're both terrible at it.
A Valentine's Gift (For You, From You)
Buy yourself something pretty this week.
My pick? Rose quartz. It's known as the "love stone," and it's connected to all kinds of love, not just the romantic kind. Self-love, friendship, compassion, forgiveness. Keep it on your nightstand, toss it in your bag, hold it when you need a minute.
A small tumbled stone is a few dollars, and yes, it's pink. Obviously I'm into it.
You don't need anyone's permission to buy yourself something beautiful. Consider this yours.
What Would a Good Human Do?
This is the question that stuck with me most from the book. The protagonist's father taught him this, and it became his compass through unimaginable circumstances. Not "what's the smartest move" or "how do I win this." Just... what would a good human do?
I love this question because it strips away the overthinking. It gets you out of strategy mode and into something simpler and more honest.
This Valentine's Day, turn that question inward. What would a good human do for themselves right now?
Maybe it's naming the voice that's been the loudest lately. Maybe it's cooking something warm and familiar. Maybe it's asking a friend to go for a walk. Maybe it's buying yourself a little pink stone and letting it remind you that love starts with how you treat yourself.
Name what hurts. Let it settle. Choose love anyway.
Looking for nourishing meals that feel like home? Love What's On Your Plate has you covered. It's the cookbook that gets flour on the pages and sticky notes on the recipes.
More real-life wellness strategies → svliving.com
