Hey Reader
I hear the famous line every February:
“So… what are you getting for me?”
Sometimes it comes dressed up differently.
“Will you be my Val?”
And just like that, the season changes.
Love becomes louder. Colors feel brighter. People suddenly soften. Everyone becomes extra sweet, extra kind, extra generous—at least for a moment.
When I was younger, especially back in elementary school, I used to ask random people to be my Valentine. Not because I had some deep romantic intention, but because to me, it was simply an act of love.
I’ve always shared. Since I was a child, giving was just part of me. Back then, it wasn’t complicated.
No pressure.
No expectations.
No competition.
Just pure excitement.
I remember walking into school feeling like a tiny ambassador of affection—handing out cards, sharing sweets, writing my name on anything that could hold a message. One week you could be my best friend, and the next week you could be my “chosen person” simply because you shared your biscuit with me during lunch.
That was enough reason.
Everything felt simple.
Love lived in the little things—a piece of chocolate, a handwritten note, a cheap plastic gift that somehow felt priceless. Nobody asked how much it cost. Nobody measured effort. Nobody calculated who did more.
We gave because it felt good to make someone smile.
But as we grew older, things changed.
Now the questions come with weight.
“How big is the gift?”
“Who is posting who?”
“Who did more?”
“Who tried harder?”
Somewhere along the line, something that used to be soft became heavy.
What was once about kindness started looking like a competition.
And every year when this season comes around, I find myself thinking about the younger version of me—the child who didn’t overthink love. The one who believed that sharing a snack was enough reason to celebrate someone. The one who didn’t wait for a special date to show appreciation.
Because maybe that’s the real point.
Not the grand gestures.
Not the expensive gifts.
Not the public declarations.
Not the perfect social media posts.
Just genuine care.
Love is checking on someone.
Love is sharing what you have.
Love is choosing kindness on an ordinary day.
Love is giving without measuring what you’ll get back.
Love was never meant to live on a calendar.
It was meant to live in everyday moments—random acts of generosity, thoughtful words, small efforts, and the simple decision to make someone’s day a little better.
And honestly, maybe we could all learn something from our younger selves.
The ones who loved freely.
The ones who gave easily.
The ones who didn’t need a reason to show they cared.
Josh 🙏🏼
