DEAR READER: GET A F-CKING GRIP. YOU’RE NOT MISSING THAT MUCH. #VALENTINESDAY

Allentown Central Catholic High School, eight years ago. I was 16.

In high school, I was the girl who was “best friends” with all the guys. I used to get really upset about it. I’d list the things that were wrong with me: I’m too tall. I’m not skinny enough. I’m the funny girl with the cool personality that’s not sexy.

I never had a Valentine for Valentine’s Day.

If only the high school me knew who I'd become.

But I didn’t let that stop me.

It started as a gradual progression as I got older. Focusing on exercising, writing more, doing what I loved, and making myself the person I wanted to be. I stopped thinking what other people thought.

And then all of a sudden: Boom. I got a boyfriend. For two years. A Valentine.

Ummmm ...

We went to dinner for Valentines Day at some fancy restaurant and I ordered an asparagus salad, which ended up being three pieces of asparagus on a plate, and the high-ceilinged room was silent and the staff was obnoxious and I started crying on my first real Valentine’s Day.

That same boyfriend had sex with me the night I got back from studying abroad and broke up with me right after,

and ever since then, I am very aware of the fleeting, fickle nature of “love,” and the deep power of sex over all of us.

My life was over. I was back to the loser I was in high school: no boyfriend, no love, no sex, and no date that Valentine’s Day.

So how am I back to the confident Lauren Metter again? It took time. I did it for myself. I lived again, went outside and took deep breaths. Went to a million music festivals, hung out with a million friends I actually loved,

and realized I was the same person all along. A good person. The one with the cool personality. And if no guy realizes it, the fuck do I care?

I’d rather be alone and myself on Valentine’s Day.

(But I’ll definitely be at our #LastMinuteLove Tweet-Up at The Avenue at 8pm Wednesday night…)