Three years ago, my best friend and I had a memorable conversation shortly before we went off to college. We were sitting on the floor of my bedroom, reminiscing about all the good times we had shared together, and how different things would soon be when we were thousands of miles apart. The discussion slowly turned toward the topic of love. We were convinced we would find ‘the one’ at university. To my 18-year-old self, the idea of graduating with the love of my life by my side didn’t seem too far-fetched. I would meet so many people in college, I told myself. Surely that special someone would be hidden in the crowd of people I would spend four years with, right?
Wrong. Or, at least it feels that way. My third-year is now coming to an end, and I have yet to find that special someone I was oh-so convinced I would meet. I would be lying if I said I haven’t been a bit disappointed with my love life thus far. St Andrews had always felt like the perfect place to meet the someone I could envision myself spending the rest of my life with. There are countless activities, clubs, and parties to be a part of and attend, not to mention the close-quarter-living of halls in first year. After ending a toxic relationship the year prior to starting at St Andrews, I was looking forward to having more fish in my sea, and was completely certain that that spark or special connection with the right person would come sooner rather than later.
When it didn’t happen, I became more cynical about love than I would have liked to be, and I think I still am to an extent. Yet I find comfort in hearing other peoples’ stories of how they found their special someone after college and in the most unexpected of ways, when they were least anticipating it. My parents met when they were both in their late thirties, at a time when they both had given up on love and were living life as they wanted to, disregarding the countless others around them that were already married or engaged. Does this mean maybe I should give up on love too? Should I stop scrolling through endless blog posts with stories about how people met their significant other, desperately hoping I would have a similar story to tell (and soon)?
I have heard the same thought repeated over and over again by close friends and family: the second you stop searching, when you least expect it, they will appear in front of you. I love spending time by myself. I love getting to know my thoughts and feelings about the world, and envisioning a future for myself where I achieve my dreams and goals. Perhaps this is the way to continue, at least for the near future. Perhaps as long as I focus on myself and my own dreams, and learn how to live with myself (because, ultimately, I am my own life partner), that special someone will come along soon enough. And, hopefully, they will pop in at just the right time. But for now, maybe giving up on love is the right thing to do, without becoming too cynical about the idea of it.