Oh, how I miss my teenage years. Just kidding.

Despite the fact that I am only two months into… Oh, how I miss my teenage years. Just kidding.

Despite the fact that I am only two months into my second decade, barely 20 in the midst of my junior year, I’ve come to the conclusion that I’ve never been in an adult relationship. Both of my past relationships were in high school — one was rather lengthy and the other was more of a fling.

After my second attempt at a commitment, elders who would ask my relationship status would commend me for staying single, praising me for my good judgment and reluctance to get serious. I agreed.

Though most of my already tied-down friends tried to stay together in different colleges, I chose to have the “college experience.” I went out to both school and social events, met a ton of friends, and even some very cute guys. A nice pat on the back for me … at least, I think.

Unfortunately, it seems those days of status disregard have come to an end. Every time I make a visit home, my mother asks me if “I’ve met any nice men.” Though she would never make fun of my life decisions, I know she is secretly hoping that I’ll partner up.

Enter my sister and her fiancé.  At this point in time, she’s questioned my every move with men. Why not him? Wasn’t he good enough? How about I set you up with him? She yells at me for being too picky — I’m sorry if I can’t date a guy that has a dip in every half hour. Yet of the ones I’ve considered, none have been approved.

Apparently noticing my increasing academic seniority, they sat me down and gave me a little advice, or in my mind, a lecture. They told me that I should “start to be more open to dating” because evidently everyone “meets who they’re going to be with during their college years” and they don’t want me to end up alone. They were genuinely worried about my future well-being.

They weren’t the only ones.

One of my best friends, who was, until recently, notoriously single, told me of his similar set of worries the next time he was with me. Is this the freakin’ “Ghost of Freshmen Past” trying to punish me for exploring my options instead of dabbling in the dating world?

So, based on these, am I, and all of you lovely, currently single readers, doomed to a life of loneliness if college ends and our single-dom doesn’t?

I will be honest and admit that most of my married friends are a product of college dating. But if I follow a traditional perspective, this is the person I’m supposed to stay with for the rest of my life.

According to the 2010 Census, I, a white female, still have about 60 years left, due to croak around the ripe age of 80. Assuming I leave out everything previous to Pitt, I have to sort through all these possible partners in four or five years — right now.  I’ll say that the people getting their graduate and doctoral degrees are cheating to get a deadline extension. That’s a lot of time constraint to find someone worth living with for 60 years.

Obviously I am determined to prove that, although convenient, meeting someone in this stage of our life is unnecessary and distracting. Looking at the statistics nationwide, I found a recent study done by Match.com. The website questioned 7,000 married couples on their initial meeting place. Of these, only 27 percent met through school. Yup, take that naysayers.

In fact, the biggest chunk of these couples met through friends or family, equaling a total of 38 percent. So for those of you looking for a lover, force your friends to set you up with their closest single hotties and hunks. The more the merrier, right? Let your cousin bring his or her friend to the next Pitt football game and seat them next to you. Hey, you never know.

For those of you that don’t really give a crap about settling down, don’t let anyone make you feel different. I made that mistake. Lesson learned. Take your time and follow your own path to finding “the one,” if that’s the future you even desire. I refuse to let people convert me into being a fan of relationships.

No matter what your relationship status is, be true to yourself in what you want. Tell everyone else to mind their own business, and ignore all those stupid statistics. It’s your life, and you have the right to be in whatever percentage you choose.

E-mail Leah at [email protected].