Figuring it Out: the Post-Grad Blues

Around this time last year, my life made a major shift. I had (kinda, more on that at 12!) graduated college and moved from my coastal New Jersey life back to my Pennsylvania hometown for good. It was going to be the first time in four years that all four of my siblings, including myself, would be living under the same roof.

To be honest, I wasn't exactly devastated to go home. Really, I was exhausted. I had struggled tooth and nail to finish college; I still had two classes to complete this summer before they sent my diploma in the mail. I'd spent the last four years going out all the time and not taking school as seriously as I should have. There were several breakdowns, trips to the hospital for heart palpitations, tattoos gotten, friends made and lost, etc. I was spent.

So yeah, coming home didn't seem so bad. I'd have the summer to settle in, eat hot home-cooked meals again, ones that weren't tomato on toast or garlic-buttered noodles. My family is the best; we argue at times, but generally, as I’ve grown up, things have mellowed out, and we all get along well. My parents have always been supportive in all of my endeavors, even during times when I wasn't doing so great in school. They pushed me to be better. I thought moving home and finally entering myself into the workforce would be the magical fix to the existential dread I had been experiencing since I realized college was coming to an end. But it wasn't.

It wasn't a few months into being home when I realized how much I really missed living on my own. I missed the freedom, and oddly, I missed the responsibility. I was working with mostly millennials in their 30s now. Some of them had life partners, some of them even had kids. And while they all talked about their houses, kids’ soccer games, and wedding plans, I was still sharing a room with my sister. A bedroom that was painted bright pink with lacy pink curtains and a giant Harry Styles poster over my headboard.

It all felt so confusing because I have always had a sense of who I have wanted to be, and this wasn't it. I always knew I wanted to live by myself for a bit. I wanted to move out and live in an apartment in Philly and take the L to work. I wanted to be able to meet friends for happy hour apps and drinks at a cute rooftop bar when my day was over. And then be able to crash into a big, comfy queen-sized bed all to myself when I got home, and drift away while reading a good book. That's how I envisioned my post-college life.

But of course, it doesn't come that easily. The economy is terrible, the cost of living is through the roof, and I'm not anywhere close to moving out. And some days it sucks, because I want to feel adult, but some days it's not too bad because my mom lives down the hall, and I can watch the Pitt with her whenever I'm feeling sad and need a good show to get my mind off of things. I know life could be a whole lot worse, and I'm so grateful it's not. But somedays I miss being able to eat my buttered noodles in peace.

I look back now to all of the times I wished high school and college would be over sooner, and I'd be 21 and working on being my own person. I hate that I used to think that way, because although I was struggling with school, everything else in my life was so easy. I could sleep in and do what I wanted when I wanted. I was so crazy to think that everything would be easier when I was out of college. And I know that in five years I'll look back on this time and think "Wow, I had it so good back then". I'm sure it will be a never-ending cycle of this for the rest of my life.

What I've learned is, it's not all that simple. And what I'm learning to be okay with is that this time in my life isn't meant to be something spectacular and life-changing. It's supposed to be weird and awkward. I'm younger than everyone I work with, older than all my siblings, cousins, and their friends. There's nothing comfortable about this period in my life. And that's okay.

Until then, I'll be dreaming about my apartment and queen bed in my bedroom at my parents’ house until I have the means to make it come true.