“Ah, it’s almost that time of the year again.”
I say these words to myself from time to time as my loneliness wallows me in a spiral. A few months pass by, and I am here standing alone amongst a crowd of couples.
Sadness and worry begin to occupy my mind as couples begin to find one another at the start of spring.
Tick tock, another few months have passed. “I should stop thinking about this,” I mutter to myself on a dismal Tuesday afternoon.
The first step toward self-love was acknowledging the problem rather than lingering in despair. Do I need a man or significant other to make me happy?
To my surprise, no, not exactly.
Instead of self-loathing, I decided to continue my daily routine as a student, but I allocated more time to focus on my hobbies and interests. My iPad library began to increase one by one loading the virtual library with books about romance, self-love, and psychology.
NOTE: I used to be and will always be a sucker for my cheesy, romance books regardless of my partner situation. If I’m happy, why should I stop?
I added the gym into my college schedule hoping to maintain my weight, but it helped me develop a sense of self-love instead. The gym allowed me to fully dedicate myself to my self-love goal, but I also loved the way I felt after a workout: accomplished and proud.
With heavy breaths and a few drops of sweat dripping down my forehead, it was an indicator of my hard work.
I felt good.
Fast forward to a Saturday night. My friend and I are screaming at the top of our lungs to some pop songs as the car grooves to the music. The beats of the music reverberated throughout the black BMW; each note golden to my ears. I was exhilarated, having the time of my life in a two-door car.
So, why was I so fixated on love? A boyfriend? Relationships?
It hit me then that I could be perfectly happy on my own. I don’t need a boyfriend to experience feelings of happiness when I could be the creator of my own.
It’s me that I need, not a boyfriend.