Time flies. 14 February 2018 marked my third single Valentine's Day. Declaring that you're single on this day of love always has negative connotations attached. Single awareness day, my friends called it.

Only bitter spinsters spend Valentine's Day alone, my mom proclaimed. She's one of those traditional aunties who believe women must get married and give birth by a certain age or they'll be considered monsters. Yup, no pressure at all.

Surprisingly, the loneliness that's often associated with singlehood hasn't seeped in for me. For someone who, for seven years, lived in the shadow of another, my independence is still refreshing, even after three Valentine's Day. Being single is actually liberating.

I'm not obligated to reply messages when I'm too busy. I don't revolve my week or life around someone. I wake up and sleep as and when I like, the same with buying plane tickets. I go when I want to because I don't have to answer to anyone.

Everyday, I'm discovering new things about myself. And I'm glad I stuck by my decision to love myself before seeking love from someone else.

No one can love you more than you. Always remember that.