The Story Behind “My Original Valentine”

Every Valentine’s Day of my childhood, I woke up to a chocolate rose on my nightstand.

Not just the chocolate—though that was exciting enough for a kid. There was always a notecard too, in my dad’s handwriting. Something simple. “To my Melanie.”

He’d sneak in while I was sleeping and leave it there. So when I opened my eyes on February 14th, the first thing I saw was proof that someone loved me.

My dad was my original valentine. This song is for him.

The Tradition That Shaped Me

I didn’t realize how special this was until I got older. Until I talked to friends who’d spent Valentine’s Days feeling lonely or left out because they didn’t have a boyfriend. Until I understood that a lot of girls grow up thinking Valentine’s Day isn’t for them unless a boy makes it so.

I never felt that way. Not once. Because every single year, no matter what, my dad made sure I knew I was loved. Before any boyfriend. Before any crush. Before romance was even on my radar.

He taught me, without ever saying it directly, that I didn’t need to wait for someone else to make me feel valued. I was already valued. I was already someone’s valentine.

That changes how you move through the world. It changed how I dated. How I saw myself. What I was willing to accept from partners. Because I already knew what real love looked like—I’d been getting it since I was old enough to eat chocolate without making a mess. (Okay, I still make a mess. But you know what I mean.)

The Little Details I’ll Never Forget

The chocolate rose was always the same kind—from one of those See’s Candies or Russell Stover boxes. The foil wrapper was always red or pink. It was never fancy or expensive. It didn’t need to be.

The notecard was always small. Sometimes it had hearts on it. Sometimes just a plain index card. His handwriting was never neat, but it was his, and that made it perfect.

The best part? He never made a big deal of it. Never woke me up for fanfare or expected a huge thank-you. He just did it, quietly, every year. Like it was the most natural thing in the world. Like of course his daughter would wake up feeling loved on Valentine’s Day. How could it be any other way?

That quiet consistency meant more than any grand gesture ever could.

Why This Song Had to Exist

When I started planning an album about love, I knew immediately there had to be a song about my dad.

Because he was my first model of love. Before Dan. Before any crush. Before I understood what romantic love even was. My dad showed me what it meant to be cherished. To be prioritized. To be someone’s person.

“My Original Valentine” isn’t just nostalgia—it’s a thank-you note. For the foundation he laid. For the confidence he built in me. For every chocolate rose that taught me I was worthy of love before I even knew to question it.

(Also, I definitely cried writing this one. Are you sensing a theme? This album is basically a box of tissues with a tracklist.)

Who This Song Is For

Daughters who had amazing dads: This is your song to send to him. Preferably with a warning, because he WILL get emotional even if he pretends he won’t.

Dads with daughters: Start the chocolate rose tradition. Or whatever your version is. Trust me—she’ll remember it forever.

Father-daughter dances: At weddings, at daddy-daughter events, at any moment you want to ugly-cry in public. This song is perfect.

Anyone whose first love was a parent: Because romantic love isn’t the only love. Sometimes the most formative love is the one that came first.

Here’s to the dads who show up. The ones who leave chocolate roses and handwritten notes. The ones who make their daughters feel loved before anyone else gets the chance.

You’re not just being sweet. You’re laying a foundation. You’re teaching her what she deserves.

Thanks, Dad. For being my original valentine. For every chocolate rose. For everything.

Melanie

The Melanie Grace