Mutual support sets the foundation for a healthy relationship 

By VIOLET ZANZOT— vmzanzot@ucdavis.edu

I think my list for a perfect partner, relationship or love story started when I was probably 12 years old — when my best friend and I danced in the kitchen at her mom’s house late one night. From there, my list grew and changed, taking on as many different lives as I did. 

Here’s about where it stands today: He must be my friend, swing dance with me as we cook dinner, there has to be chemistry, he has to be funny, he has to support my ambitions, I should never wonder how he feels about me, we have to have what I have called the “Obama factor” and timing — we have to have the timing right. Over the years, this semi-incoherent list of ingredients has come together to be the recipe for my perfect relationship: At least, I would imagine. 

Like I said, things have been crossed out, erased altogether, added, put back, highlighted, bolded, bent over backwards and underlined as I learned more and more about romantic relationships. By watching my parents divorce, my cousins marry (not each other), friends cry, strangers smile hand-in-hand and through experiencing my own trials and tribulations with matters of the heart, I have cultivated my list. Now that we have arrived to 

this point: Generally speaking, what makes a good relationship?

It is that time of the year again when it’s a little colder and chocolates look like they should be bought for you by someone else (they are heart shaped, after all), and everyone seems to be coupled up. But which of these couples are in “good” relationships and, more importantly, what makes them so? Is there a universal “something” that couples need to have in order to be in a healthy relationship? 

My answer: mutual support — “security in an insecure world.” 

In 2011, Congresswoman Gabrielle Giffords survived an assassination attempt. Mark Kelly, astronaut and now congressman, never left her side. Their story began as a friendship, with each bringing along their own complicated histories, as we all do. Over the years, they have stood by each other as strong as twin pillars. They have supported each other’s careers, their passions, their families — in sickness and in health. Even as their needs changed, they were there for each other. As Giffords’ health declined, Kelly nursed her; Their needs changed, but the effort never faltered. 

The moral of their story is this aspect of mutual support. In a world where everyone has their own lists of needs for romantic relationships, individual aspirations and life goals, a need for overall support is the constant. 

So, when you’re asking yourself if your partner is right for you, check in with yourself first. What do you need? Is your partner supporting that? 

Michelle Obama speaks to the challenges that come along with relationships — love is hard, after all. Her main points: Marriage is never 50-50, don’t quit too soon and be your authentic self. Relationships are not always easy, but the work is as much necessary as it is worth it. 

Because, when you put in the individual work and the teamwork, you get what I referred to as the “Obama factor.” When Michelle walks into a room, people take note. When Barack walks into a room, people take note. When they walk into a room together, people take note. They stand independently as amazing and successful people and together as the same — they only ever celebrate and amplify each other. They put in the individual work and the team work: that’s how power couples are born — all of the effort for all of the reward. 

I implore you now to go out and fall in love, with yourself or with someone else (hopefully both). Remember that beyond your chemistry in a relationship, you must put in the work to support one another. This Valentine’s Day, share the flowers and the chocolate with the one who tickles your fancy, and be there for each other a little more than usual.  

Written by: Violet Zanzot— vmzanzot@ucdavis.edu

Disclaimer: The views and opinions expressed by individual columnists belong to the columnists alone and do not necessarily indicate the views and opinions held by The California Aggie.

Didn’t I just spend my money on a million gifts?

By ABHINAYA KASAGANI — akasagani@ucdavis.edu

With Valentine’s Day around the bend, millions of shoppers hit the stores in full force, scouring the racks and searching frantically for the perfect gift. Store shelves are stocked with generic bearings and signs listing the wide range of discounts offered. This fine establishment is desperate for your services, but the department store will not be where you find the ultimate token of your affection. Oh well, try again next year.

Valentine’s Day has evolved from being a day to honor a martyr into one of grandiose romantic gestures that encourage material expressions of love. There is no shirking responsibility here — one must think of a gift, thoughtfully but quickly, to maintain eligibility. Excuse the cynicism. Sure, all holidays are reliant on gift giving to express feelings of love, but no, there are none like this one. 

It is the one occasion on which your gifts are weighed by how much thought went into them, how much time, how much money. What are you looking for? Luxury? Something high-end? Something utilitarian? Traditionally given gifts: jewelry, chocolate and the like raise several ethical concerns regarding consumerism and sustainability. They also ask the larger question of whether the holiday is about the act of buying or the act of giving. The pressure to both spend and perform lavishly robs the participant of any satisfaction.

Gift giving represents an objective waste of resources, according to a 1993 journal article by Joel Waldfogel. Research has found that people often find it difficult to account for others’ perspectives.

 “Their insights are subject to egocentrism, social projection and multiple attribution errors,” an article by ScienceDirect reads. 

Despite being well intentioned, these gifts raise the question of whether we are giving meaningfully: is it about consumerism, or is it an expression of love? Some say that the distinction is clear, and if so, would the average shopper be willing to entertain the idea of being eco-conscious about their gift giving if it doesn’t take away from the joy of the occasion? 

Sorry to make everything about a hot-button issue, but I promise this applies. While these gifts hold sentimental value, societal expectations often pressure individuals into making loud and expensive purchases. Many dread the idea of buying gifts, worrying that their purchase will disappoint the intended recipients. Others fail to calibrate their gift expenditures because they equate the amount spent with the appreciation the gift will receive.

This assumption, however, happens to be unfounded. Most mass-produced gifts contribute to environmental degradation and exploited labor or promote materialism and overconsumption. We must assess all ethical considerations and consumerist concerns to ensure that expressions of love do not contribute to social inequities or environmental degradation.

In order to do so, we must weigh the damage against a gift’s supposed value. Valentine’s Day cards are primarily made from virgin paper, resulting in more trees being felled to meet the high demand. This also destroys habitats, contributing to carbon emissions. Cocoa production for those heart-shaped chocolates involves the widespread use of child labor, and the floral industry relies heavily on pesticides and carbon-intensive transportation. Feel free to slap a price tag on a feeling and call it a day, if that works for you. However, shopping sustainably, with the intent to preserve the environment, is one of the best ways to consume more consciously. If you’re on board, here’s what you could do:

1. Instead of defaulting to traditional and commercialized gifts, consider handmade ones. Personalized gifts reflect effort and intention and could be seen as more thoughtful and sincere. They also require fewer resources and reduce reliance on unsustainable production methods.
2. To minimize harm, opt for digital greetings instead of paper cards. Or, make your own. If neither of these options interests you, buy a recyclable or fair trade card.
3. Choose gifts made from recycled materials. Support local artisans and ethical businesses that prioritize sustainability.
4. Utilitarian gifts are practical, durable and genuinely useful. What is important here is that you listened and considered what the recipient actually wanted. 
5. Consider intangible gifts — taking a class together, focusing on a sport or any other preferential outing — to strengthen connection and help avoid contributing to material waste. One can never go wrong with quality time.
6. If it is really important to you that your gift be either chocolates, flowers or jewelry (because why fix something that isn’t broken), consider the ecological footprint of the products you choose and choose sustainably. One way to do this is by looking for B Corp Certification (the B Lab has an entire online directory where you can browse certified companies in different industries). Ethically sourced chocolates, Fair Trade flowers and jewelry made from recycled or responsibly sourced materials are wonderful alternatives. Be intentional about supporting brands that prioritize sustainability and ethical production to ensure that your gifts are not byproducts of exploitation or environmental disregard. 

Considering the ethical dilemmas surrounding gift giving does not mean eliminating gifts altogether. By promoting a culture of ethical gifting, individuals can move toward a more compassionate and conscious world. Ultimately, rethinking the ways we love and appreciate one another helps to move away from the idea that Valentine’s Day is about fulfilling commercial quotas and toward the understanding that genuine affection can align with ethical values. This time around, find a gift that keeps on giving.

Written by: Abhinaya Kasagani— akasagani@ucdavis.edu

Disclaimer: The views and opinions expressed by individual columnists belong to the columnists alone and do not necessarily indicate the views and opinions held by The California Aggie.

Sad, beautiful, tragic 

By MOLLY THOMPSON – mmtthompson@ucdavis.edu 

I am the poster child for a specific subset of my generation: those of us who grew up with our heads in the clouds. We spent our youth running through backyard fields — in our minds, frolicking through fairytale kingdoms. I worshipped the Pevensie kids in “The Chronicles of Narnia,” and I was wholly convinced that I would grow up to be Annabeth Chase from the “Percy Jackson and the Olympians” series. I spent my formative years immersing myself in Taylor Swift’s discography, meaning that the brain I grew into is practically forged from the lyrics “How You Get the Girl” and “Sparks Fly.” To my very core, I’m a hopeless romantic. 

I’m a daydreamer — I love grandeur, idealism and melancholia. I love riding the train just to stare out the window and lose myself with a carefully curated playlist. I love falling asleep to fictitious scenes of my own design, as I play them out in my mind. I love fantasy, glamour and revelry. Let’s call a spade a spade: I’m absolutely delusional. 

Modern collegiate culture, as much as I love it, decidedly does not cater to my illusory tendencies. Romance used to mean idealistic (of course, it still does in the literal sense), but now it seems to encompass flash-flood flings, petty games and the hellish fate of being left “on read.” 

Before I get too far into this, let me get off my high horse for a second; I’m not trying to place myself above all of this. I’ve spent as much time deep in the throes of timing my texts to save face as the next girl (reader, there was no face to be saved). But that doesn’t mean I don’t still yearn to experience the thrills that inspired the entire “Speak Now” album. Yes, yearn. It’s ostentatious, I know, but it’s true. C’est la vie. 

So, what’s a girl to do when current societal expectations don’t match her level of delusional fantasy? God only knows I’m less qualified to provide advice than commiseration, but I do have thoughts on the matter. 

Firstly, I think the biggest thing we all need to do is take a deep breath. There comes this fear of missing out (FOMO): of never being able to fulfill expectations. I get a periodic sensation of falling behind because I’m not as engaged in the contemporary (or any) dating scene as much as I perceive my peers to be. But even if that’s true, it’s not necessarily a bad thing. 

The way that I try to see it, not having a lot of romantic prospects or experience (even if it doesn’t feel like a choice) isn’t a reflection of one’s lack of value or desirability, but rather a result of having high standards and specific intentions. You’re not undateable, you’re choosy. And honestly, that’s a point in your favor. You’re not wasting your time or losing out on missed opportunities — it’s quite the opposite. You’re saving yourself from situations that aren’t actually what you long for while keeping yourself open to the opportunities that will fulfill your heart’s desires. After all, if you’re involved in a relationship — or even less dignifying, a situationship —  just for the sake of it, you’re going to miss out on the other shooting stars that could have swept you off your feet. 

The beauty of being a daydreamer is that no one else will appreciate the idealism of romance as deeply as we do. Details — as small as a poetic combination of words or eye contact with the perfect charge of lasciviousness — hold so much more weight when you’re afflicted by chronic flights of fancy. The thought “Why me?” (or maybe worse, the “Why not me?”) can be devastating, but the depth of it will be rivaled by the starburst of elation when your time finally comes. 

To love deeply is to wallow profoundly, but it takes a certain type of person to find so much joy in the first place. Most of the time, the experiences I feel like I’m missing out on don’t yield that — I’m just waiting for my moment. The best thing about being a hopeless romantic is that, when the hopelessness subsides, there’s so much space to be filled with rhapsody. 

I think there’s hope in the “not yet” of it all. No, I haven’t had a whole lot of romance in my life yet, but how exciting is it to think that it’s all still to come? There’s so much to look forward to, like a luminescent glow of the rising sun peeking over the horizon. 

A glass half empty is just as legitimate as a glass half full; A perceived lack of romantic attention can just as easily be the perfect canvas to be painted with the radiant purple pinks of future stories — a veritable cradle of endless possibility. 

Written by: Molly Thompson — mmtthompson@ucdavis.edu 

Disclaimer: The views and opinions expressed by individual columnists belong to the columnists alone and do not necessarily indicate the views and opinions held by The California Aggie