Valentine's Day Hype and the Invisible Valentine

Dear Invisible Valentine,

This is not short and it's not a Hallmark card. But it's specifically for you, anyway. Yes, you. The person who finds yourself, during the "holiday of love", feeling alone and invisible.

I know you're embarrassed about feeling the way you do today. You're telling yourself it's a first world problem, a frame of mind you think you should be able to think your way out of. But I see you and can tell you, I know that it's really not so simple.

You know how sometimes kids get right to the heart of things that adults struggle to understand and explain? Recently, a writer friend posted on Facebook about a grocery store incident she witnessed in which a young child in the middle of a meltdown tearfully hollered to his mother, "I just want you to see me!". Almost immediately after the post appeared, comments started flooding in. Boy, did that child's comment resonate with people! And while it's anybody's guess what a child's comment taken out of context actually meant, one thing was clear in the discussion which followed on social media. The experience of feeling invisible is not unique.

Holiday hype can take that feeling of invisibility and magnify it exponentially.
Valentine's Day,  in particular, can be experienced as a statement of that people belong in one of two camps: the seen and the invisible, the loved and the unloved, the acknowledged and the unacknowledged.

These ideas are instilled and reinforced at an early age. When I was a kid, for instance, a February school fundraiser involved the selling of Valentine's Day carnations to be distributed to one or more designated people on the 14th. Invariably, during the very public distribution of flowers, there were kids who received bunches, and kids who received none. You, over there, are liked, but you, over here, are not.

As adults, we are wise enough to know, at least intellectually, that flowers, candies, and cards do not equal love. But most of us aren't completely immune to societal messages about Valentine's Day, which is why we can find ourselves feeling disappointed or rejected when the day unfolds as an ordinary one, devoid of demonstrative gestures of someone else's love for us. Or why, in other instances, we're baffled when we receive Valentine's Day tokens of affection and regard and find ourselves still feeling alone. And sometimes, invisible.

This is for you, Invisible Valentine, whatever your history or situation. I may not see the particulars of your life, but I see the feeling underneath it all, and in that way, I see you clearly. Maybe you are recently uncoupled, or estranged from your family, or without a longed-for child to give you handmade Valentines. Maybe someone dear who always remembered you on Valentine's Day has passed away recently, and you wonder if you will ever feel so connected and acknowledged again, on Valentine's or any day. Maybe you are struggling financially, or working a thankless job, or desperately seeking a job, or grappling with an illness, disability, or chronic pain that makes you feel invisible to the legions of people who have their physical health. Whatever the case, you don't feel seen or connected, and this day of hearts and lace and flowers can feel like salt in that particular wound.

I'm not going to tell you to write a gratitude list or turn your attention to giving to others (though both of these practices can be good medicine in certain situations). Instead, I'm going to tell you to see yourself today, in the form of using Valentine's Day as a good excuse to treat yourself extra well. I'm going to tell you that, in the throws of Feeling Invisible, your sense of your own visibility and worth have no relationship whatsoever to whether others can see you and how much you matter. And I'm going to tell you that, in my professional role as a therapist and in my personal role as someone who can grapple with the invisibility thing from time to time myself, I have never known it to last forever.

And I'm going to tell you that I see you, Invisible Valentine. And I'm wishing you, if happiness itself eludes you right now, at least the solace, self-compassion, hope, and strength to get you through a tough time.

Keep on keeping on.