The 5 Stages of Post-Grad Single Life Acceptance

That’s right, kids. Let’s tackle it. The shadow looming over the heads of twenty-something post-grads everywhere. Being single. 

I’ve talked about this hairy little subject before (see previous post, the name of which I don’t actually recall). It’s terrifying to be thrust out of a pool of thousands of available men and into the real world, where you are the only person under 30 in your entire office. Terrifying, but survivable. It just may take a bit to adjust to the ‘survivable’ part of things. It took me awhile, at least. The way I see it, single post-grad life can be likened to the 5 stages of grief. 

Stage one: Denial. 

No, this cannot possibly be happening to me. I cannot have graduated college without meeting the person I’m supposed to spend the rest of my life with. Surely I met him, I just didn’t realize it at the time. *Cue re-dating of all exes in the hopes that you just ‘missed’ The One somewhere along the line* 

Stage two: Anger. 

This is absolutely not fair. All of my friends have boyfriends or are getting married. WTF? Why haven’t I met anyone? I must be the one person meant to be alone in this world. *Internet dating looms*

Stage three: Bargaining.

Come on universe, seriously. Just throw one good guy into my life. I promise I’ll stop whining if you do. Seriously, I’ll be completely thrilled. Come on, I only need one …

Stage four: Depression.

I will be a lonely, pathetic, single cat lady forever. This is it. This is the end for me. I hate my horrible life. I’ll never meet anyone anywhere ever. I missed my chances. I’m utterly and absolutely doomed to be alone. 

Stage five: Acceptance.

Oh wait. Hey, okay, maybe this isn’t so bad. I’ve got my job, I’ve got friends. I’ve got a lot going on right now. Maybe being single is actually kind of a good thing for me. I can do whatever I want.

*Journey to Self-Discovery Begins* 

And there you have it, folks. The 5 Stages of Post-Grad Single Life Acceptance. Admittedly, I waiver back and forth between varying stages, but most often I live happily in “acceptance”. (Although there was a rather embarrassing episode a few days ago that involved me languishing on the kitchen table and groaning about the fact that when I die, the dogs will eat my remains and no one will find me for days).

Oh, and also, happy 2012. It’s going to be a good year. 

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