Valentine’s Day has always felt like a tricky holiday.

As a pastry chef, what’s not to love? Chocolate desserts. Heart-shaped cookies. Pastry bags containing melted white chocolate or tinted royal icing for me to pipe ‘I love you’ on top of anything and everything. From dreaming about what recipes to make to looking at all of the packaging options…ribbons, tags, labels, tissue paper and iridescent shred…this holiday has always captured my baking heart.

As a mother, there’s also a lot to enjoy. Cards for my children, little treats tucked into boxes, arts and craft projects when they were younger. It all sounds idyllic. Yet, here’s where the threads began to unravel. I’m not a planner, and many of these ideas never saw the light of day in reality. Instead of creating a celebration, I set the stage for feeling like a failure.

I was less than as a mother when I hoped to decorate the house with paper hearts, and only got as far as buying supplies. I was less than when I stayed late at the bakery and came up short for my family. I was less than when my children went to school wearing their usual clothes instead of being outfitted in the latest holiday-inspired top and accessories. The pictures on social media confirmed my fear. I wasn’t enough.

As a human, this day has often made me wince and want to retreat.

In elementary school, would the notes in the mandatory valentine’s day cards be nice?

In high school, would I ever walk around the corner to discover the elusive, mysterious red rose taped to my locker?

So many memories of longing for something I only witnessed from afar. My heart grew used to the sting.

Valentine’s Day can feel like a day of popularity. Of belonging. Of mattering. A day of ‘show and tell’, adult-style. We can so easily fall into measuring ourselves and how much we matter by what we receive. It’s great if we have something to show. It can be excruciating, however, if we happen to be alone, or recovering from a broken relationship, or suffering from the loss of a loved one.

These painful situations make me tread carefully. I am that awkward person who stood alone, flower-less, watching as festivities unfolded around me. I lived the emptiness of wanting something I do not have. I know the loneliness of believing ‘it’ will never be my turn. I moved through life carrying the heated shame of being alone, an outsider.

I found my place when I stopped waiting and began to carve a spot for me. When I stopped looking to my left and to my right. When I stopped longing for something and replaced it with actions that brought me joy.

My little fortress was made out of bags of flour and sugar, pounds of butter, mounds of chocolate chunks and the people next to me in the kitchen.

My message for everyone today is this: define today for yourself instead of letting external cues define it for you. Take time to think about what brings your joy and stroll down that road instead of spending timing, energy and potential heartache walking down a road that leaves you feeling hurt, unloved, scornful, or less than.

On this Valentine’s Day, I am going to find my joy baking chocolate chip shortbread cookies. What about you?

Sending love, happiness, and good health to everyone today.