When I started my freshman year of college, I was in a committed relationship. My boyfriend who had graduated high school with me was also starting school, about seven hours away. We did what we could to make a long distance relationship work, but it wasn’t always enough.

What was once a happy and healthy relationship quickly turned toxic by our sophomore year. When you coupled the distance with a deterioration in trust and constant arguing, it resulted in an unhealthy pairing. I ended the relationship shortly before the spring semester came to a close.

It took some time for us to finally put the needed distance between each other. Despite everyone reminding me to do so each day, it took weeks to unfollow his social media profiles and stop texting him whenever I was missing him. Ending a dependent relationship was one of the hardest things I’d ever had to do, and the second hardest thing was finally ceasing what little communication we had left between us.

Knowing that I was in no place to devote myself to someone else after being in such a serious relationship for almost two and a half years, I decided it was time to take a break. While my friends tried to set me up on dates, asked me to just try tinder once, and thought of every reason possible to keep me dating - my gut said otherwise. I knew it would be best to take time for myself, and looking back now, I am so glad that I did.

I learned more about myself in the time I’ve been single than I expected. I finally got my ears pierced while my four year old cousin looked on proudly. (She’d had them done about a month before me.) I tried out my first real hair trend and got “unicorn underlights”. In the following weeks, I learned that teaching swim lessons in a chlorinated pool is a really quick way to get rid of unicorn hair colors.

In the following months, I learned to celebrate myself and my independence. It felt like every day was brand new, and I could do whatever I wanted without someone telling me no.

Any night of the week could be girls night, or guys night, depending on what group of friends I wanted to hang out with. I had spontaneous bonfires with friends I had lost during the course of my relationships. I drove across the state to visit classmates I’d met at college. I took the train into New York City alone for the first time, and had the time of my life.

I joined a sports team at my school, and loved every minute of it. I loved each sweaty practice, each aching injury, each moment spent celebrating our hard-earned wins and well-fought losses. In them, I found a family, and they helped to fill the hole in my heart that is still healing.

If I had thrown myself back into dating right away, I would have spent every moment comparing them to the person I lost. For months, they were still the person I wanted to share my joys and sorrows with. They were still the person I thought of late at night when I watched sappy romance movies. It wouldn’t have been fair to anyone else to feign happiness with them while I was still in love with another.

When I started my break from dating, my goal was simple. Just learn to be alone, and learn to be happy again. A few months in, and my goals have changed and developed. No longer am I okay with settling for happiness. I want joy in each day where I can manage it. I strive to do well in my classes. I’ve realized my dreams and I know what I need to do to make them come true.

People said being alone would be boring, or painful. And I’m not going to say I didn’t have bad days, because I did. But I also had beautiful days. I filled my life with love for myself and what I did each day. Where I’d once depended on someone else to give me the attention and care I wanted, I gave it to myself.

There are still bad days, but they are far and few between. Looking back, I am glad that I chose to be alone for a while. Because if I hadn’t, I never would have learned to love myself the way I do now.