Three years ago, on Valentine’s Day, I walked into a courthouse and filed the final paperwork for my divorce. Yeah, I did that on purpose. For years, Valentine’s Day, like most “special” days of the year, was just another reminder of stress, tension, and trying (and failing) to meet the expectations of someone who could never be satisfied. No matter what I did, it wasn’t enough. So, when it was time to make my divorce official, I decided to take the day back. Instead of letting it be a reminder of exhaustion and disappointment, I marked it as Freedom Day, a personal milestone of breaking free from something that had drained me for far too long.

For the past two years, I stuck to that. I celebrated my independence, my resilience, and the new life I was building. I spent the day reflecting on how far I’d come. And it felt right. It felt like me.

But this year? This year is different.

Because this year, I have Talia in my life.

Finding My Way Through the Wreckage

I once wrote a blog post about the end of my marriage. You won’t find it here, it’s locked behind a password, shared only with a select few. Not because I’m ashamed, but because some stories, when shared too openly, can be twisted by the wrong people. And my ex-wife, a minor public figure in Seattle, has never been above using a narrative to her advantage.

That post was my way of processing the wreckage of my divorce, a marriage built on shifting sands, where love felt like a transaction and approval was currency. When it finally collapsed, it wasn’t slow or subtle. It was like lightning. Sudden, violent, a betrayal impossible to ignore. When I filed those papers, I wasn’t just choosing to walk away. I was choosing me.

And for a long time, that was enough.

Redefining Love

After years of therapy, which started when I discovered what was going on behind my back, I realized I didn’t really know what love was. I didn’t know until I met my girlfriend, Talia, who showed me a love I’d never known before.

Not the kind built on obligation or the fear of disappointing someone. Not the kind where you have to walk on eggshells or perform some impossible role just to avoid conflict. Real love. The kind that is given freely. The kind that lets you be yourself, without judgment, without manipulation, without conditions.

Talia has shown me what it means to be seen, to be supported, to be encouraged.

For the first time in years, I’m not just acknowledging love, I’m letting myself be loved.

She loves me without keeping score. Without making me prove my worth. Without expecting me to fail.

I didn’t realize how much weight I had been carrying until she took my hand and reminded me that I don’t have to carry it alone.

A Different Valentine’s Day

This year, Valentine’s Day isn’t about reclaiming something from my past. It’s about embracing what I have now. It’s not about proving my strength in solitude, but about allowing myself to lean into something real, someone real.

I still honor the journey that got me here. I still appreciate what Freedom Day once meant to me. But I don’t need it anymore. It served its purpose.

Now, I’m ready to let love take its place.

For anyone still in the storm, still wondering if the pain ever fades, it does. And on the other side? Something better.

Happy Valentine’s Day!