I'll be my valentine!

I'm cheating. I'm not writing an entry today, but sharing a column about Valentine's Day that I wrote when I was in college. It was one of those that I went back and re-read a couple weeks ago, and wouldn't you know, I had a little bit of wisdom back then. The things I wrote back then are things I need to remember now, so that's why I'm putting it here. This was published Feb. 8, 2001 in Wingate University's Weekly Triangle:

While Valentine's Day originated as a day to honor the Catholic Saint Valentine, it's become a holiday centered on romanticism. As such, it is often embraced by happy couples and dreaded by the unhappily single. Through the years, I have fallen into both categories.

In high school, I was never in a serious relationship, and never once had a date for Valentine's Day. On Feb. 14, there was always a carnation sale at school. Always I hoped that I would receive a carnation from that cute guy I had admired from afar, or, at the very least, from a secret admirer whom I could imagine to be my Prince Charming. Always I was disappointed.

Needless to say, I always dreaded Valentine's Day during those years. More than that, the weeks preceding that gloomy day were always a period when I would get very down on myself. I would look in the mirror and see someone I thought no one could love.

When I came to Wingate University, I began dating a guy here the end of my first semester. So my freshman year I found myself, happily, with a Valentine's Day date. For once, I felt complete--I was someone worth loving, not someone others inwardly pitied.

I was in that relationship for two years. Though it ended more than a year ago, I don't regret anything about it, and I know that my relationship with that person taught me the most important lesson I could ever learn--how to love myself.

We are often so bombarded with messages about self-esteem that we deflect them without consideration, thinking we already know all that. But we seldom take the messages to heart. In high school, it was common to know people who thought there was something wrong with them if they weren't in a relationship, so they would be with anyone, just to be with someone. Though much of that ends in high school, the reason for it continues.

We are not comfortable with who we are. We are not enough.

When motivational speaker Eric Saperston visited campus last fall, he said something that really struck home. He said that it is not failing that scares us. Instead, we are afraid of being too much, of being too great.

Since coming to Wingate, I've changed immensely. I have honed my skills in journalism, I have become much more outgoing, and I have gained confidence in my own abilities.

I have learned that I am enough, and I am not afraid of that. This is what my college education has taught me. If Wingate gives that gift to every student here, then the thousands of dollars spent for this education are worth every penny.