To My Valentines and Galentines

It should come as no surprise that my Valentines this year are, once again, my boys and my husband. They are the loves of my life. I know I talk a lot of shit about them in this blog, but I really do love them fiercely.

And while I no longer make a big fuss about the day, I do still give my boys heart-shaped boxes of chocolate as a symbol of my love (and for the one in college, I throw in a few smaller ones for his roommates).

Stan is allergic to chocolate, so he doesn’t get one; I show him love in other ways. One way is through publicly announcing it on this blog. I’ve written in the past about the many reasons I love him, how I’m willing to share him with Virginia, and even how we keep the romance alive when Valentine’s Day falls on weekday.

But he already knows how much I love him, even with all my nagging, so I’m going to jump on the Galentine’s Day bandwagon this year and show some love to the women in my life.

I have to start with my mother and sister. They are everything to me. They give me unconditional love and support, and quite a bit of fodder for this blog as well. Last week’s post was about Denise and I’ve written many, many posts that include my mom — some flattering like this one, and others not so much (but she knows I’m mostly kidding).

Then there’s my sister-in-law. We’ve grown closer in the past few years, in part, I’d like to think, because I’ve grown in the past few years — and so has she. Aimee provides a different lens for me to view the world, and challenges me to think more broadly. Plus, she’s one of the only people I have in my life who can fully relate to the issues around raising Black boys.

And last but certainly not least, my girlfriends Sharon, Carin, Kerin, Kerry, and Caitlin. My longtime besties. My ride-or-dies. My sisters (even if by other misters).

These women represent different parts of my life. Some I’ve known since childhood, others since young adulthood (if you can call 18-year-olds young adults). And while our relationships may have changed over the years, we are still close despite being far apart.

In some ways, they each “offer” me something different, but one thing is the same across the board: They love me as I am, without judgement. They make me laugh, they make me cry, and they keep it real with me even when it’s hard to hear. They are my support system, my therapists, and my partners-in-crime, and I can’t imagine life without them.