Aarti Jhurani

In my teens, I thought people in their forties were almost done with life – they had the house, the car and the kids; they had ticked off society’s checklist and were basically just waiting it out until it was time to kick the bucket. I turned 41 last month, and it’s safe to say I have strayed off the conventional path. I don't own a house, I have no children and I haven't done half the things I want to. And, hopefully, I'm nowhere near the end of my days.

It’s that time of year again – red dresses in shop windows, restaurants promoting special meal deals, hotels offering private dinners by the beach at eye-watering prices and cheesy songs playing on the radio in the run-up to what is alleged to be the “most romantic day of the year”. But with all this pressure, is it really? Most people dismiss Valentine’s Day as yet another capitalist holiday, but there’s nothing like big red hearts everywhere to remind you that you’re single.