Oh, the stresses of being a senior. Papers, finals, frantically
searching for jobs when you realize there are only two weeks left
before graduation, hanging out with friends at Humphrey’s while you
are all still together … so many things to do!
But perhaps more perplexing than the thought of moving back in
with the parents is the fact that the dating pool as we know it is
about to evaporate.
Ever since we were 5 years old and found that kindergarten
crush, there has been a plethora of options for dating, or going
out, or seeing people–a whatever you want to call it. From the
first kiss at recess, to the crush on the chemistry lab partner in
high school, to the college hook-up that was definitely a bad
idea–for about 18 years there has been plenty to pick from.
Suddenly, our time is running out.
With the option of dating fellow students all but gone, we must
think ahead to future dating opportunities. There is the
workplace–fun, thrilling, but not the best idea. We are adults
now; we can’t mix business with pleasure. There are bars–where
every other drunk, desperate twenty-something hangs out. What a
crowd.
So what option does this leave? Finding someone now, while we
still have time.
You can almost spot us unattached seniors across campus–we have
that look in our eyes as we think, “Hmm, maybe he/she is the one
…” The bars are packed with people like us as we search for that
one last hook-up, the last shebang. I have been told not to worry:
Senior Week is going to be crazy.
Great, so in my last week at Saint Louis University, I can meet
someone and never see them again. Sounds like a plan.
I don’t know if it is a sense of desperation or a sense of
disappointment. Maybe it’s both. While I was in high school, I
guess I figured I would meet my future husband while in college. As
my best friend’s mom always put it, “You need to find a smart SLU
guy.”
Oh right, maybe I should try that one; I didn’t think of
that.
It doesn’t help that when my mom was my age, she married my dad,
which leads to the external pressure to find a mate. I think my
parents are worried. Seriously. In an age of equal rights for
women, my dad actually told me I need to find a husband who has a
good job and makes a lot of money.
I told him I was going to stay single forever.
Speaking of which–it has been more than a year since I had a
permanent boyfriend, which leads to the inevitable question at
family functions: “Why aren’t you dating anyone?” I usually make
some remark about not needing one, and I am better off without the
commitment–yada, yada, yada.
It is much easier than saying you just can’t find someone.
On top of the family pressures, there are the sounds of wedding
bells clanging louder and louder at an alarming rate, as attached
friends decide to take the logical next step. As engagement rings
are shoved in our faces, we singletons start to wonder, “Did I miss
something? Did I do something wrong? What if I did meet my soul
mate, but I screwed it up? Time is running out!”
We frantically try to make amends with people from our past,
hoping to rekindle what was probably never there to begin with. (I
did it, though the results of that are yet to be determined.)
Looking for advice that may actually help, I turned to someone
who had already experienced my pain, someone who graduated last
year in the same situation. Now he has a girlfriend, and they seem
to be fairly serious about each other. After explaining my fears in
a freaking-out fashion, he told me not to worry.
Oh, O.K., good advice, thanks.
He continued though, reminding me that when one door closes,
another one opens. While my door to SLU is closing, my door to the
entire world is opening, and I have no idea what is out there.
True, very true. Maybe this single thing isn’t so bad after all.
My family can wait, I have plenty of male friends to take as dates
to weddings and, Mrs. Gawrys, no worries–I will find a smart guy
somewhere out there.
Besides, it is just about time to pop out of the SLU bubble.
Michele Parrish is a senior studying communication.
