Towards the end of 2017, I made what may have been a negative decision regarding my “follows” on social media. While on Facebook, I came across a page dedicated to the traditional Western male in all of its glory. Now as an extremely progressive millennial feminist, I know this is contradictory – why would I even bother allowing this trashy content to come anywhere near my newsfeed? Well, I was mostly looking for a good laugh to get me through the day; however, while coming across some of this page’s content, I began to grow slightly uneasy.

Many of the page’s lengthier posts were committed to spreading the sentiment that the reason why mental health and suicide rates are on the rise is because too many millennials are depriving themselves of the joy of getting married and raising a family. The creators of this page are also very adamant in sharing the belief that young women should not be wasting time or money getting an education, but rather they should dedicate their efforts to finding a husband who will protect and support them.

Now although I believe with everything in me that this is complete alt-right sexist B.S., I suppose these posts disturbed me so much because there still exists a significant number of people who believe these sentiments to be true. While I was attempting to comprehend this nonsense, intrusive thoughts began to plague my mind.

Should I be actively seeking out a romantic partner while I simultaneously engage my studies? Will I truly be content without a life partner, children or even grandchildren? And how is it that women like my mother and grandmother had already met their spouses by the time they reached their teens, while I’m 20 and can barely decide what to put on my sushi roll?

Then, I began to think about the year I had just had in terms of my love life. If you were to study my 2017 chronologically from start to finish based solely on my romantic endeavors, the picture you would see would be truly apocalyptic.

My New Year’s Day in 2017 ended like many of yours - recuperating from a night of festivities with a few close friends and a really nice guy I was pretty into. Of course, a few days later, I was dumped (if you could even call it that - we hadn’t even started officially dating). Disheartened, I went for a run and cried it off - not out of a broken heart but out of frustration. 2017 had just begun and my dating prospects were looking pretty bleak.

As you probably already figured, my romantic life did not pick up. It was always one thing or another - he had other obligations, I had other obligations. She wasn’t ready for a relationship, I wasn’t ready for a relationship. He was bored of me, I was bored of him.

Needless to say, by the end of 2017, I had completely lost any interest in the dating scene. I was burnt out and exhausted, pleading to be left alone. I think a lot of people experienced their love life in 2017 the same way that I did. But I’ve noticed that the difference between those of us who say that we’ve had a great year despite this and those of us who say we’ve had a bad year because of this is not based on the consistency of those 365 days, but on the way we choose to define them.

You see, if I look like everything that happened throughout my 2017 with the exception of anything to do with romance, I had one of the most productive and successful years of my life. Throughout 2017, I held down 4 different jobs, making plenty of money and friends at each. I raised my GPA from a measly 3.0 to a 3.7 beginning with my Spring semester and managed to maintain this GPA throughout my Fall semester.

I became an executive board member for two organizations that advocate for movements I’m extremely passionate about (feminism and human trafficking prevention). I attended my first ever political rally (with Bernie Sanders of course) and even got to stand on stage with him. I volunteered at an elementary school in an impoverished neighborhood, and I became a teacher’s assistant for one of the greatest professors I’ve met so far. And of course, I unexpectedly became a writer for the Odyssey.

My point here was not to shed light on all of my accomplishments (though that certainly felt good, I can’t lie), but simply to argue that any year of your life, whether it be 2017 or 2070, should not be solely defined by the success (or lack thereof) of your romantic endeavors.

Furthermore, ladies and gentlemen: Though some may wish the year was 1950, it simply is not. If 2017 has taught us anything, particularly about gender roles and feminism, it’s that women are not walking opportunities for marriage, motherhood, or household chores. Women are now members of Congress, your professors, your doctors and your lawyers. The loves of our lives are not our caretakers or protectors, but our equal partners.

Relying on a handsome prince or a beautiful princess to sweep us off of our feet is a pretty dangerous game. We will never be truly autonomous, independent human beings if we depend on others for our happiness.

Waiting on the traditional “happily ever after” is not an hour-long Disney cartoon - it can grow to be a dark and lonely path, especially if we lose ourselves in the process. Don’t sit on the bench of life and call on passersby to give you what you seek- get up and start walking. True contentment will always be found within the self.