I still remember my Bid Day like it was yesterday — sitting assembly style in a common room filled with other girls chatting and fretting. Some girls were certain of their destination, knowing their home away from home the second they walked through the door on the first day of recruitment. Others, like me, were going over every conversation I had for the past week and wondering if I made a mistake.
Throughout it all, I had been told by my Rho Gammas to trust the process and we’d find out where we were meant to be. It was a process of mutual selection. We would find our home away from home and meet our future roommates, best friends and bridesmaids. Even though it sounded amazing, I just didn’t believe them. In less than an hour, I would go from having two brothers to upwards of 100 sisters — most of whom hadn’t met me, and I worried they wouldn’t like me either. Then, it came time to run home.
From the moment we opened our cards and were being rushed towards our Bid Days, I felt out of place. Everyone was racing home, running at the speed of light while I made it about two steps before thinking, “Screw dying, I’m walking.” I thought I would wind up as the last girl to make it home, arriving after the party had already ended and with no one to talk to. Instead, there were people walking beside me.
Some just didn’t want to run. I hate running with a passion, and I had my feet worn to shreds after a week walking in heels. Physically, I couldn’t move faster than a hobble without breaking my feet. This was when I first began to realize what it meant to be in a sorority. It wasn’t about being perfect and enthusiastic, the kind of sorority girl that knew every bylaw by heart and would make Elle Woods pale in comparison. A sorority was about being myself — being who I was — because that is what the sorority wanted. They wanted me because I was me.
As an alum, there are too many memories I could use to fill this article. I could talk about meeting my little and joking around with her. Or I could talk about the Christmas cards my sisters sent me or the matching tattoos my family and I keep procrastinating on getting. These memories are specific to me — a sarcastic nerd who loves horror who went into recruitment thinking she would never find a home. I wasn’t blonde and preppy enough, or I didn’t own enough Kate Spade. Just like your own sorority experience, it will be reflective of who you are. You probably won’t be the perfect sorority girl, but that’s not what you’re supposed to be. All your sorority wants is for you to be genuinely you with all your quirks, eccentricities and bad jokes. The best way to experience your time in a sorority is to be yourself as loudly and as proudly as possible.