I waited for weeks to write this. I didn’t want to jump the gun, declaring my devotion, only to realize I’d been seduced by false promises.

That’s what happened with Avril Lavigne’s “Girlfriend.” For a week or so, we were besties. I’d crank her up, dance around with her, and laugh like life had new meaning. And then one day… it was over.  We pretended for a while like nothing had changed, but we knew. There was a chill between us… something so perfunctory when we worked out at the gym. I’d run on the treadmill like she energized me just as much as before, but I knew. I knew. My love affair with “Girlfriend” was a fling, not a commitment.

But this time, it’s different. This time, it’s love.

This time, it’s Robyn.

When Robyn first hit the scene in the late 90s, I was totally smitten. In her video for “Do You Know (What It Takes,)” she was just so cool, stopping traffic and singing out of a double microphone just to make her point. Her confidence, her swagger, her pop hooks…. it was all too awesome.

Then Robyn went back to Europe. She was releasing her music over there, but the U.S. got nothing. I thought I’d spend the rest of my life wistfully recalling our one magic summer, like the one Danny had with Sandy.

I did get a postcard once. A few years ago, iTunes released her song “Be Mine!,” and I bought it right away. And oh! My heart fluttered all over again. The confidence, the crazy-awesome video: It was all there. Plus, there was this new, electronic edge to her music. Robyn had grown, and so had I, but we had grown in the same direction. (Here’s the first video for the song. It’s much better than the second.)

And then a few weeks ago, the U.S. was finally given Robyn, an album that culls the best tracks from her recent European records. Let me tell you, I raced to meet her like I was in a 1940s romance, and she was my long-lost lover stepping off the boat and into my arms.

And what a reunion! First, there was my renewed ardor for “Be Mine!,” which is included on the new album. It’s now the most-played song on my iTunes, dethroning Madonna’s “Hung Up” after years on top. (As of this writing, I’ve played it 40 times.)

But “Be Mine!” is just the beginning. What I’ve discovered is that Robyn has become an impossibly alluring woman: Her songs burst with dance and pop hooks–often recalling the bubbly bounce of the 80s or the hard-dancing throbs of the early 90s–but they have lyrics about boyfriends who get sent to prison and girls who want to be more aggressive than any dude on the block.

If you only listen to her words, Robyn sounds like the hardest chick in the world. In “Who’s That Girl,” she says she wants to “be the guy” in the relationship, meaning she doesn’t want to deal with unfair expectations that she’ll be sexy and sweet all the time. “I’m only pretty some of the time,” she says, and there’s a sting in her voice that tells you it’s not an apology. She’s not saying she only feels pretty a few days a week, but that she only makes the effort to look hot when she damn well pleases. Otherwise, she may not take a shower, and screw you for expecting her to.

Very few artists pull off this kind of confidence without seeming like jerks. Robyn does it by playing with her image. On “Curriculum Vitae,” the opening track, she barks that she wants some “hells bells” on her record, and then an announcer spends 90 seconds extolling her ridiculously kick-ass accomplishments (“high score of two gazillion in Tetris, two-time recipient of the Nobel Prize for super-foxiest female, etc.”) That leads to the brag-rap of “Konichiwa Bitches,” and both tracks showcase Robyn as an over-sized, comic creation. Like Ludacris, she’s so confident that she can make fun of herself. (Here’s the wicked funny video for “Konichiwa Bitches”)

But songs like “Who’s That Girl” and “Handle Me” make it clear that Robyn gets frustrated by men, while ballads like “Eclipse“ peel back her armor to reveal some bruises. To my mind, that only proves her strength: True self-confidence means acknowledging vulnerability.

In other words, Robyn shows more dimension in a single album than some singers do in their entire careers. Because she finds such nuance in it, she suggests her personality isn’t an act.

And did I mention that no two songs sound alike, yet all of them have crazy-infectious hooks? If you only listen to her music and not her lyrics, Robyn and her co-producers sound like mad dance scientists. (They are.)

No joke: For a few days after I got this album, I was telling everyone I knew to listen to “Handle Me,” “Who’s That Girl,” and a spacey dance song called “Crash and Burn Girl” because they create the best kinds of addiction. Since then, I’ve become equally hooked on “Konichiwa Bitches” and dreamy techno number called “Dream On.”

Plus, Robyn did this on her own: She co-wrote most of her material and started her own label to release it.

Confident, human, and surprising: All good words for Robyn and her music. Like I said… I’m in love. And I think we’re going to make it to our silver anniversary.

(For one last shot of awesome, here’s the video to “Handle Me.” Another thing I love is that Robyn is not afraid to look frizz-eaky on film. She’s rad like Missy Elliott that way.)