It’s Valentine’s Day. And I truly couldn’t care less.

In all honesty, I stopped getting worked up on February 14th sometime after college. And before that, it was something I “celebrated” only because it was what everyone else was doing. Plus, I had a string of non-stop boyfriends from the time I was 13 until this past September, with four months being the longest period of time I was ever single.

Now, I am embracing it for the first time – EVER.

No, it’s not even funny. I have not been single since I was 13 years old. I went from boyfriend to boyfriend to boyfriend to husband to boyfriend. Some overlapped, when I was young and dumb. I dated multiple Justins and countless Mikes. But I definitely never had a night to myself. The idea of going to sleep or making weekend plans without first checking in with someone was beyond my comprehension.

When I got the offer to come to Las Vegas for my current job, I was dating someone. I really, really liked him too. But I also really, really wanted this job and so I had a big decision to make: stay on the same path and keep putting boys first, or do something different for once and make myself the priority.

I chose option number two.

It has been terrifying and lonely and exciting and freeing. I can do whatever I want, whenever I want. For the first time in 21 years (!!) I am single and truly on my own. I have amazing people in my life and an amazing life, but for now, no one super special. I am finally focusing on myself. My therapist is thrilled. Sometimes I like it; sometimes I miss the implied companionship. Mostly, I am adjusting.

Today marks 5 months since I moved, left behind a relationship I really wanted to work and said goodbye to all of my friends and came to Vegas to try something new.

Me.