I’m not sure how I ended up in the 2013 Valentines’ Day Haters’ Club. I’m usually Love Day’s biggest fan. If you have a special gift for your man and you need a secret place to hide it, I’m your woman. If you’ve got adorable, easy to tame kids and need a break, Auntie Leah’s on the job (Sorry, folks, Mr. and Mrs. Tasco have already claimed Auntie Leah’s Valentines’ Babysitting package for 2013). If you need a good, sturdy shoulder and a listening ear for this year’s edition of “I Can’t Believe that Sorry Mofo Forgot Valentine’s Day!” I got you fully covered with tissues, Mint Milanos, and periodic interjections of “That right, girl. He ain’t isht!” I realized this morning that apparently age 33 is the magic year when Valentines’ Day ambivalence turns into Valentines’ angst. I could see that I’m now growing tired of being everyone’s Valentines’ Day cheerleader. When was I going to get a chance to get off the sidelines and get into the game?
I’ve got all the Julia Roberts movies, I’ve been to more love seminars than I can name, and I own every Iyanla Vanzant book ever published. I am fully healed, confident, gainfully employed, and well adjusted. I am the extrovert’s extrovert and if you drop me in the middle of a party, I can guarantee that EVERYONE in the place will love me. I don’t do “Angry Black Woman” ‘cuz quite frankly it clashes with my fabulousness and optimism. I’ve never been on line for the “All Men Are Dogs” sorority because I was blessed with an AMAZING father and FANTASTIC brothers who consistently showed me what real manhood is. I cook well. I’m RIDICULOUSLY stylish. I’m great with kids. I have an encyclopedic knowledge of all things Stevie Wonder. I give great hugs. I’m the best free psychiatrist this side of Dr. Phil and Oprah. So, really, what the heck is going on here, God?
I have no answers nor am I searching for the silver lining at the end of this non-existent rainbow. I’m just resigned to being saltier than a bag of Utz Potato Chips today. I’m so salty that I’m making Salt ‘N Vinegar Chips look bland right now. No worries, the Leah you know and love will return tomorrow. Right now, I’m just going to wait for my saltiness to pass and pray that my day to put down my pompoms and actually be a player in my own love game will come sooner rather than later.