Every year I try to write something about how Valentine’s Day is mostly a bundle of gendered expectation and obligation wrapped in a parcel of guilt. That doesn’t stop it being fun for some people (and nor should it), but hopefully it does help people who feel shit about the whole thing to feel a little less shit and a little more like it doesn’t really matter. But I’m a sex blogger, so if I don’t write anything about Valentine’s Day I’ll get letters. So, as a compromise I’ve written a guide to things you can buy as Valentine’s Day gifts for yourself. Hoard them, enjoy them, publicly propose to them if you want to, just don’t give them to anyone else: there are other gift guides for that.

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