Stage #1: I’m a boss.
Yep, you’re completely fine. You have that IDGAF attitude and you’re rockin’ your favorite jeans and hair flippin’ all over the place. Who needs a man when you look this good? #byefelicia
Stage #2: I’m okay, I’m just tired.
Your resolve is fading, but your bed = bae. Plus, without a man you can sleep longer, more peacefully, and with actual covers on your body. Bliss.
Stage #3: Okay WTF do I do with my life?
You suddenly have these awkward stretches of time with no plans. So you start filling them with random things—nail-painting, puzzles, or actually getting an ab workout in at the gym. But ultimately you feel super weird.
Stage #4: Brb crying at everything.
You start crying at the dumbest freaking things. Like throwing out his toothbrush because you know he won’t be staying at your place anymore. Or finding that stupid black beanie he left in your car because how the hell are you going to return it without completely losing it?!?!
Stage #5: Hellooooo Best friends! Hi? R u there? SOS!
You start to fill the hole in your life (Read: the absence of someone to constantly annoy) by blowing up your girlfriend’s phones. Anything from random questions, to giving them a play-by-play of the whole breakup for the third time, to blubbering-crying voicemails, to hysterical Snapchats—it’s sort of ridiculous. But hey, it does keep your mind off things.
Stage #6: Holy moly. How do I do this whole single thing??
Okay, so you’ve acknowledged the fact that you’re solo, which means doing your own thing. (Read: Making your own food. Read: Figuring out how to actually follow recipes.) Before you were cooking for a small army and could just wing it. Not anymore. So you start the mini-freak out: How many chicken breasts will you actually eat?? Are you going to have a ridiculous amount of leftovers?? Ahh, should you just go out to eat?!
Stage #7: I’ll just distract myself with random things.
Lord knows you haven’t actually vacuumed the rug in months. Now you suddenly have the motivation to get on your hands and knees and work on that Dr. Pepper stain by the couch. About freaking time.
Stage #8: Look everyone, I’m getting over him (but not really).
So this is the stage where you suddenly become a social media addict. Tweeting at everyone, refreshing your Instagram to see if he’s liked your latest selfie… and low-key stalking his page. You also become a very deep, introspective person in this stage, especially as you try to compose a Facebook status that is a perfect mix of moving on but not too cocky but not too pathetic either.
Stage #9: Help. I’m so lonely and cold.
You have suddenly come to the pathetic realization that you are lonely and freezing you’re butt off, like, all the time. No middle of the night snuggle-buddy body heat. No car warmed up before you leave for work. No extra fuzzy, extra big athletic socks to wear. Damn, you’ll miss those. And oh my gawddddd….you have to buy your own drinks now?! SOS! (Just kidding.)
Stage #10: Alright. Enough. I’m getting my life together.
Okay, so now you’re feeling better. You start changing your lifestyle. (Slowly. But surely.) And you actually begin to enjoy your solo-time: listening to your own music, singing in the shower, taking your sweet time at the gym, watching all the lame realty TV shows. It’s not so bad. Plus, you start to buy and cook those turkey meatballs you’ve been craving but your ex hated. Ahh, revenge never tasted so good.