Growing up, I always imagined myself meeting the right guy in college, falling in love, getting married after graduation and possibly starting a family. That hasn’t happened yet. My life did not go according to the plan that I had in mind. I was not Cinderella and there was not a Prince Charming waiting around the corner of my intro to communications class and I’m incredibly thankful for that.

Following a gut-wrenching breakup with my first boyfriend at the beginning of my first semester of college, staying single made sense because I was a complete mess and everything kind of sucked. I needed to focus on school. Staying single until my junior or senior year wasn’t exactly the plan, but as time passed I realized that dating and finding a boyfriend just wasn’t a priority of mine.

Maybe it was because I didn’t want to have my heart broken again or maybe it was just because I barely had a spare second for myself, let alone another person. Maybe it’s a combination of these two things. Either way, I am glad that I didn’t rush into anything, force something that wasn’t going to work, hook up with someone, or even go into that “we’re talking” phase with another person.

This article isn’t to say that anyone should feel ashamed for dating, meeting new people, and/or fulfilling their sexual needs (or not fulfilling said needs because asexual and aromantic people exist!). This article is simply to say that being single and celibate for the past two years or so has probably been the best option for me. I’ve needed time to get my life together, to fall in love with myself (yes this is cliché, but I write it because it’s true), and figure out what I would want in a potential partner.

Maybe it isn’t too late for a decent person and I to decide to get to know each other by talking or going on a date or whatever. I do have a few semesters left of my undergraduate years. It may not be apparent, but I am kind of a hopeless romantic. I love a good love story and maybe one day I will be honored to have one that I can tell to my friends or possibly children or even just a stranger in a supermarket.

These last few years of being single have shown me that I can get by perfectly fine without a love story, but that it’s also not wrong to still long for one. Being able to love fiercely, in various capacities, does not make me any less of a feminist or any weaker as a human person. Yet I can still realize, accept, and believe that my relationship status does not define me. I can be perfectly fulfilled and happy while allowing my love life to sit peacefully on the back burner as I pursue my hopes and dreams of being halfway financially stable, writing more often than not, and making the most out of my life.