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I used to swoon on Valentine’s Day, a day of love, romance, sweet chocolates, flowers and wanton passions.

Then the commercialism of the day began to get on my nerves, and I swung to the other extreme. I didn’t do anything for my lover on Valentine’s Day and barely noticed its passing unless others reminded me.

Thus, Valentine’s Day became a non-event in my life, until now.

Now it is rife with meaning and touches my love and I in ways we couldn’t have imagined.

Last year, I was wishing a friend a happy Valentine’s Day. Instead of replying with "You too," she scowled.

"What’s wrong?" I asked.

"There’s nothing ‘happy’ about it," she said. "It’s the day I was raped."

Another woman I was meeting for counseling told me she dreaded Valentine’s Day because her boyfriend would give her everything: flowers, candy, dinner out, a hot tub and a massage."

"What’s wrong with that?" I wondered.

"What’s wrong," she replied, "is all the strings and expectations he attaches to it.

"He acts like I owe him something for that one day of generosity. For months afterwards he expects me to have sex whenever he wants it, to go out to stupid parties with his low-life friends and clean up his messes around the house."

If those stories weren’t enough to make me think differently about Cupid and paper hearts, one of my foster sisters told me that she had been sexually abused by her father for years — and it always got worse around holidays, especially on Valentine’s Day.

The stories about female genital mutilation in Africa, the murder of women accused of adultery, the use of rape as a weapon of war in Bosnia, the torture and imprisonment of women who dare to speak out, and the high incidence of incest and abuse that the women of this world have survived became personal.

They aren’t "those people over there." They are part of my family. They could be my mother, my sisters and my daughters, colleagues or friends.

Thus, my observance of the Day of Love has been tinged with an awareness of the flip side of genuine love and affection.

There are countless explanations and debates about why violence toward women is so widespread. I believe one of the major factors is that women are the most creative, powerful force upon this planet — and that is why many men and societies want to control and manipulate them.

I also believe that some men are jealous that they can’t physically create life through birth. I call it "womb envy" for lack of a better term.

Another deep-seated cause is that many of us do not know how to deal with emotional pain.

And to top off male feelings of inadequacy and rage, we are not even capable of experiencing as much pleasure as women because they have the only bodily organ designed solely for pleasure (the clitoris).

Those are some of the reasons why men sometimes act so thoughtlessly toward the opposite gender. We want to control, objectify, have power over and make what is not ours, our own. We want to tame and quantify the mystery.

Luckily, men can change. We can learn how to honor, respect and celebrate women as they are, and accept and enjoy our own qualities and attributes.

There is now a vibrant, four-year-old movement that has made great leaps in changing men and women’s attitudes toward themselves and each other. It is called V-Day and arose from the performance of "The Vagina Monologues" by Eve Ensler in 1998.

In towns, colleges and cities all over North America and Europe, performances of "The Vagina Monologues" are coordinated to take place on Valentine’s Day.

Each performance raises funds and awareness for local programs working to end violence against women and provide education and health services.

"The Vagina Monologues" are liberating experiences (for both genders), a theater piece full of truth-telling, comedy, insight, compassion and inspiration.

If you want to get more than a box of candy, a kiss and a few flowers this Valentine’s Day, I urge you (especially my fellow testosterone-filled brothers) to attend a local production of "The Vagina Monologues" and pass on what you learn.

Gabriel Constans is a Santa Cruz writer, author of "Beyond One’s Own: Healing Humanity in the Wake of Personal Tragedy."

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