For the past decade, my twenties belonged to someone else. Every piece of me...mind, body, spirit, and soul..was poured into building a world with someone who once felt like my forever. And yet, here I am, stepping into my thirties with an almost intoxicating new lens on life: the newly single life.

It’s strange, really, this freedom. Like slipping into a parallel universe I didn’t even know existed. There’s this electrifying chaos to it, a constant hum of possibility. Conversations that linger a second too long, strangers who offer glimpses of worlds I’ve never touched, and an endless stream of “what ifs” that swirl in the air around me.

But freedom isn’t always simple. With every step into this new world, I’m reminded of what I don’t want. The weight of meaningless connections, the hollow pursuit of temporary thrills... I’ve tasted them, and they’re not for me. What I want is sharper now, painfully clear. It’s depth, authenticity, someone who matches my fire but doesn’t try to extinguish it.

This isn’t a confession of regret or longing, though. It’s one of rediscovery. For the first time in ten years, I’m truly meeting myself. And let me tell you, she’s a force to be reckoned with.

Anyone else out there living this newly single life? Tell me... what’s the most unexpected thing you’ve learned about yourself in the process?