Stuff To Do For Valentine's Day

So, last year, my friend Carla decided Valentine’s Day was the perfect opportunity to “spice things up.” She bought her boyfriend a live lobster and a cookbook titled Seafood for Two. He was horrified, the lobster escaped into their bathroom, and they ended up ordering pizza while trying to catch it behind the toilet. It was a disaster—but it’s also the only Valentine’s Day either of them remembers.

That story proves a crucial point: expectations are the real enemy of February 14^th. We get so caught up in what we’re supposed to do—the roses, the candlelit dinners, the overpriced prix-fixe menus—that we forget the whole point is to actually enjoy the company. So, let’s ditch the script.

For the Couples Who Hate Crowds

Look, I love a good steak, but I don’t love sitting elbow-to-elbow with fifty other couples pretending not to be stressed. If the idea of a reservation makes you twitch, lean into the anti-date.

Hit the grocery store. Yes, really. Each of you picks out two ridiculous ingredients—say, frozen waffles and canned pineapple—and then you go home and challenge each other to make something edible. It’s chaotic, funny, and you’ll probably end up laughing more than you would over a $90 plate of pasta. And if it’s terrible? You get to order takeout anyway. Win-win.

Alternatively, drive-in movies are making a comeback. You bring your own blankets, your own snacks (no one judging your cheese-puff habit), and you can talk during the film without getting shushed. It’s romantic, but also weirdly nostalgic and low-pressure.

For the Solo Superstars

Here’s the secret the greeting card companies don’t want you to know: Valentine’s Day is actually the perfect day to treat yourself. You don’t have to compromise on the movie choice, the dinner location, or the dessert portion.

Why not host a “Galentine’s” party? Get your single friends together, order the cheesiest pizza you can find, and watch a rom-com you know is bad, but you love anyway. The Holiday? 10 Things I Hate About You? Yes, please. Or, take the opposite route: watch a scary movie. Nothing says “I’m happily independent” like screaming at a jump scare while eating a lava cake.

Another solid option: treat yourself to a hobby date. Go to that ceramic painting studio you’ve been eyeing. Buy that fancy bottle of wine you normally skip. Write a letter to your future self. It sounds cheesy, but it’s also a radical act of self-love. You’re not “alone”; you’re just on a date with the most important person you know.

The “We’re Broke, But We’re Cute” Edition

Let’s be honest—Valentine’s Day pricing is a scam. A dozen roses jump from $20 to $80 overnight. It’s daylight robbery, and they know we’ll pay it because we’re panicking. Don’t panic.

Instead, go for experiences over objects. Build a pillow fort in your living room. Seriously. Drag out every blanket and cushion you own, string up some fairy lights (or just a lamp), and watch a documentary about something bizarre—like the history of competitive eating. It’s silly, it’s free, and it forces you to talk to each other without a phone screen in the way.

Or, do a “fridge roulette” dinner. Open your fridge and pantry. You have to make a three-course meal using only what’s in there. If you’re forced to eat a can of beans and some sad celery, you’ll have a story. If you somehow discover a hidden truffle oil? You feel like a chef. The stakes are low, but the memory is high.

The “I Forgot Until Today” Survival Guide

It’s the afternoon of February 14^th. You’ve done nothing. Your partner is texting you heart-eyed emojis. Breathe. You don’t need a helicopter ride, okay?

Go to the pharmacy. Buy a really good card—not the funny one, the one that looks like you tried. Then grab a Snickers bar and a can of fancy soda. Write in the card: “I know this is weird, but the best things are.” Then order their favorite takeout and queue up a movie they’ve been dying to watch. It’s honest, it shows you pay attention, and it costs about $15. It works. I promise.

And if you’re really stuck? Just cook them eggs. Breakfast for dinner is a power move. Scrambled eggs with cheese? Chef’s kiss. It says, “I care, I’m just bad at planning, and also, breakfast is delicious.”

The One Rule You Should Actually Follow

Whatever you do, shut your phone off. For at least two hours. Don’t check Instagram to see what everyone else is doing. Don’t compare your homemade spaghetti to their Instagram-worthy fondue. Comparison is the thief of joy, and it’s also the thief of perfectly good garlic bread.

So, go ahead. Buy the lobster. Build the fort. Eat the Snickers. Just make sure you actually show up—for your partner, your friend, or for yourself. That’s the only ingredient that matters.