Valentine’s Day has come and gone and whether or not you want to admit it, it’s kind of a big deal. Regardless if you’re in a relationship, this is the one day we all have higher expectations of those who choose to make plans with us.

Birthdays, anniversaries, the entire holiday season, are all occasions where we know there is some type of mutual personal acknowledgment involved. But Valentine’s Day is the ultimate romance-riddled, overly advertised holiday for folks to experience FOMO (fear of missing out).

So when you finally land a date on Valentine’s Day there’s pressure to be sure everything’s just right. From the look, the outfit, the location– you strive for the ultimate experience!

Imagine meeting someone and they were everything you wished for:

• Good teeth.
• Good job.
• Hot body.
• Beautiful smile.
• Smart as hell.

Most importantly ELIGIBLE.

And they asked you to be their Valentine. Swoon.

Of course, you’re overwhelmed with joy and excitement (because you haven’t had a date since your last break up). The plans are finalized and you’re ready. Fast forward, and picture yourself in your favorite outfit on (you know, the one that makes your body look heaven sent–like literally, you’re an angel on earth in this fit) and you make sure you’ve got everything on point. You’ve Naired your ENTIRE body because you know you might actually get some action. You’ve got the entire evening planned in your head and how it’s going to go down.

During this fantasy, you’ve been at work all day with the anticipation of knowing you’re someone’s Valentine. Pretty sweet right? It’s the big day, you rush home, shower and you text your date, “I’m on the the way!” and then you send a few cute emojis or whatever.

You’re stoked. You get to the place you agreed to meet at and sit there and wait for your date to show.

30 minutes later…

Guess what. They never do.

“I had to have a come-to-Jesus moment to tell myself, self, you regular af.”

Damn…you just got stood tf up! I’m asking you to imagine this event because this really happened to me. Surprise! This happened to me. I rushed home from work, blow-dried my hair straight, Naired my entire body, just to get stood tf up.

I called him. Maybe he was running late, maybe he was hijacked! I sat there and just hoped he’d be walking in with a ton of apologies and a bouquet of flowers, but as time went by, I started to worry. What could have happened to him? I hope he’s ok—what if he was in a wreck? I texted him and kept reaching out. Almost a half of hour later, I felt a wave of disappointment and rage come over my body. I was fu*king livid. I sent one last furious text just to be ignored until the next day. When he finally acknowledged all of the rage filled messages–he responded with a stock picture of a bowl of soup to tell me he got sick, let’s just say we never spoke again.

In real life, I’m extremely confident– almost overly so. I often walk around thinking I can pretty much bag anybody I want. I’m so confident, I laugh at my own jokes. That’s how legit I am to myself. So when I got stood up by someone who claimed to really be into me, I pretty much was stunned. I had to have a come-to-Jesus moment to tell myself, “Self, you regular af.”

I must say, I was humbled to say the least.  I needed to step back and evaluate things.  During that time of reflection, I thought about all the times I took advantage of folks who were interested in me but I was hardly into them.  There was never a moment where I thought I would get caught up with a “fu*kboy” —let alone get stood up, but after thinking of the things I’d put other guys through, I should have seen it coming.  For instance, while I was in college, I led guys on so that they would take me school shopping.  I would entertain their phone calls, meet them at the mall and acted coy every time they’d offer to buy me a new clothes.  I opted for shoes and designer jeans.  There was also a time where I would only respond to messages on Tinder just to eat at a fine restaurant and ghosted them shortly thereafter.  Hell, I remember asking a guy to buy me lingerie that he’d never see me in.  The shi**y things I’d done to guys in the past finally caught up to me and came to bite me in the ass.

“You got stood up at dinner, not the altar.”

Although my behavior was reprehensible, it doesn’t negate the fact that I was stood up on Valentine’s Day. F***ing Valentine’s Day! Were there red flags that should have been called out?  Did I overlook them because he was cute? The answer is yes. I should have acknowledged them, but I looked past the blatant signs (I’ll outline those signs in a later piece called “How to Spot a Lowlife”). After taking that L, it took a couple of weeks for me to bounce back–I focused my energy on myself. I didn’t date, I got involved with the community, I worked on my appearance and did things that boosted my self esteem, such as joining a gym, treating myself to a spa day, and I also changed my hair. I cut it all off—it was a Saturday morning and I told the stylist that I wanted it chopped off and straightened. These are a few things I did to get over the humiliation, and my advice to anyone who may have experienced getting stood up–or worse is to focus on yourself. After a self love session, you will feel like yourself again.

The point is, anyone can be stood up. There’s no way to save face, take the L and learn from it. Treat people the way you want to be treated so that your karma is blissful and not vengeful, or you will find yourself sitting alone at your favorite Mexican restaurant.

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