Everywhere you turn right now, Valentine’s Day packages are being advertised. “For him.” “For her.” You can see flowers wrapped in red paper, watches that scream masculinity, perfumes, wigs, handbags, and game consoles. It looks like they have made things easy for you; don’t think too hard, pick a category, and your partner will be impressed. 

You’ve probably seen that fine bouquet on your way back from work, or you’re thinking of ordering that wristwatch you spotted online. You may have even considered a PlayStation 5. But before you buy anything, pause and ask yourself this question: Am I buying this because my partner will actually like or need it, or because society says people should like it?

That question alone separates thoughtful gifting from lazy gifting.

Gifts are meant to be specific, not generic. The entire point of giving someone a gift is to show that you see them, not their gender, not their age bracket, not their Instagram aesthetic, but THEM.

Yet every year, people default to shortcuts. “Every girl likes flowers.” Do they? Some women find flowers pointless because they die in two weeks. Some would rather have a book, a spa day, or even help clear their Zara cart. “Men like cologne.” Not every man wants another bottle taking up space on his shelf. “Men like PlayStation.” You know fully well that he is not even a fan of games. “Nigerian girls like wigs.” This one is especially lazy. Some women love wigs. Some prefer braids. Others don’t care at all. Buying a wig without knowing what she likes is not thoughtful; it’s guesswork.

And guesswork is not romance.

The truth is, people tend to buy gifts that make them feel like good partners, not gifts that actually serve the person receiving them. Flowers look good in pictures. Watches feel impressive, big boxes signal effort. But effort is not measured by price tags or trends. It is measured by attention.

Listening is the most underrated part of gifting. People tell you what they want all the time, casually and indirectly. They complain about something they need to be replaced. They mention a book they’ve been meaning to read. They talk about wanting more rest, more time, more support. They joke about something they have always wanted but never bought for themselves. Most people simply just don’t pay attention.

And that’s where gifting exposes you.

If you don’t know what your partner likes, it’s usually not because they are complicated. It’s because you haven’t been listening. Or worse, you’ve been listening selectively to what you want to hear. 

Another uncomfortable truth: gender-based gifting is mostly rooted in stereotypes, not intimacy. It allows people to avoid doing the real work of knowing their partner. It’s easier to say “men like gadgets” than to admit you don’t know what excites him. It’s easier to say “women like romantic gestures” than to ask what romance actually looks like to her.

Good gifts solve problems and fulfil desires. They can be practical or sentimental, expensive or cheap. What matters is relevance. A handwritten note that speaks to something deeply personal can mean more than an overpriced item. A spa date where they get to relax and forget about the terrible week they’ve had might mean more than that overpriced wristwatch you’re eyeing. 

Also, gifting is not about proving love publicly. 

Gifting not a performance for social media. If your gift is chosen based on Instagram aesthetics, you’ve already missed the point.

Now, think about it this way: if you swapped your partner with another random person of the same gender, would the gift still work? If yes, then it’s probably generic. And generic gifts only scream “I tried,” not “I know you.”

Of course, stereotypes do not come out of nowhere. Many women do enjoy flowers. Many men genuinely like a good fragrance or a new gadget. The problem starts when you rely on these generalisations as a substitute for knowing your partner. A stereotype might point you in a direction, but it should never make the final decision for you. 

This Valentine’s Day—and honestly, beyond it—resist the urge to outsource your thinking to trends and brands just trying to sell to you. Ask questions, listen, pay attention, and remember details. Because a gift should never say, “This is what people like.” It should say, “This is you, and I see you.”