I grew up convinced that I would never find love. Throughout my life—fraught with self-hatred, anxiety, preoccupation with work and school and struggling with anorexia—I have pulled away from everything that involved social interaction and relationship building. My friends were surface-level; I wasn’t anyone’s best friend and no one was mine. I was never anyone’s first thought, always an “extra” (if I was even invited at all).

Boys were out of the question. Between work, cross country running practice and a full load of advanced classes, I didn’t have time for the petty high-school relationships that ran their course around me. But, I’ve also never felt more alone in my life. While not being attached to anyone strengthened me and made me extraordinarily independent, being the single girl came with omnipresent pain, provoking the question, what’s wrong with me?

Fast-forward to spring of my sophomore year of college, when I decided to take a much-needed study break and attend an inclusive party between my sorority and our pairing fraternity during our spring “Greek Week.” My friends and I were upstairs, dancing to the all-too familiar music that is played at every frat party ever, singing along with the predictable lyrics. The ratio was awful and there were like three girls surrounded by a room full of guys that were not yet drunk enough to comfortably talk to us.

But I had noticed that one of them starting inching toward me; he moved to my side of the room, but it wasn’t as subtle as he thought. I tried to avoid looking at him, scared of the inevitable awkward eye contact that explains, “I know what you’re doing.”

As more people flooded into the room, the volume was turned up, the lights were switched off and the temperature in the room rose about a dozen degrees. Still, this boy danced near me. Hoping to get some fresh air and a good look at him from a distant, concealed location, I made my way out of the crowded room. Little did I know he was in hot pursuit. We met out in the hallway and I finally looked him in the eyes. My stomach did a little somersault as I glanced over his soft, clean-shaven face. His grey, square glasses framed his light blue eyes. He smiled at me with straight, white teeth and asked, “Aren’t you hot in that sweatshirt?”

I looked down at my crewneck and felt a lot more flustered than I had just a moment before. “I’m alright. It’s a bit cooler out here.” My mind was racing and my ability to form coherent, logical sentences just sort of left the building. Nevertheless, we talked for the rest of the night. And by rest of the night, I mean until he walked me home at 7:30 a.m. the following morning.

Love has an unexpected way of sneaking into your life and making it exponentially better. It arrives when you’re not looking for it, when you least expect it and, in my case, when you most need it.

Connor and I have been together for almost two years now. I try to imagine what my life was like before his smile, his laugh and his dumb jokes; before I could confide in him, before I had someone to listen to the excruciating detail of my thoughts throughout the day. I imagine it was a little bit sad, a lot less rich and a lot more focused on the areas of my life to which I would cling for support and distraction from my anxieties.

It’s because of Connor that I can laugh more easily, feel a bit more confident in myself and can grow into my own independence with him by my side. To anyone who feels perpetually single, this too shall pass. Don’t take your relationships for granted, get caught up in the culture of messy hook-ups or feel you don’t deserve the best. You do, and it’s out there. Nothing is wrong with you—just be yourself and everything else will fall into place.