Six days. That is how long it took me to completely break down. To lose all sense of self-worth. To lose sight of who I was as a person. To make me question whether I really belonged at the college I worked my ass off to get into. What awful traumatic event took less than a week to do this to me? Rush.
Panhellenic, to be exact. To me, college was synonymous with “Greek life”. You know what I’m talking about: socials, toga parties, bigs and littles, all that stuff. Well after I got “the call” – where a sympathetic rush counselor tried to explain to me that I didn’t get a bid – I realized that my vision of college life was about to change real quick. I was a mess for weeks.
Please understand, each and every one of my friends has found their happy home in one of the 16 sororities on campus, and I am so, so happy for them. However, this means that I’m the odd one out right now, which is somewhere I’ve never been before. Everywhere I look is a reminder of my current, less than pleasant predicament. I see Greek life everywhere. Every time I see those letters, whether they’re a KD or an ADPi or even a ChiO, I flash back to those six days, wondering where I went wrong, why I was so different.
Every Instagram from a social or Facebook post about how much big
This experience has taught me more than k-12th ever could have. I’m learning how to be on my own. I’m learning how to figure out who I am as an individual, and here’s what I’ve got so far: My name is Sarah . I talk, think, and feel entirely too much. I have realized that I was put on this planet to help other people, and I look forward to a time when I will be fully qualified to do so.
I never want another girl (or boy) to go through the struggles I have, because no one should ever have to feel inferior to something as superficial as Greek life. I am beautiful. I am worth something. This experience has taught me that I don’t need a couple of letters on a spirit jersey to prove that. Not bad for my first 65 days of college.