When I was still in high school, I was attracted to the idea of Greek Life by the glossy sorority pictures and the exciting videos that I saw online. I scrolled through snapshots of beautiful girls with perfectly curled hair surrounded by two hundred or so other girls who were also gorgeous (and must have been using some damned good conditioner). Everything seemed so glamorous to me, from the coordinating rush outfits to the idea of having sisters. I have a little brother who is so close to me in age that he may as well be my twin. And while playing Halo for hours on end together was always a good time, there was a part of me that wished I had someone to steal borrow clothing from or plan slumber parties with. At least, that's what I imagined having a sister would be like (I watch a lot of cheesy movies, basically).

So, come my freshman year of college, I decided to go through formal recruitment. It was a long and uncomfortable week that consisted of a lot of waiting in front of sorority houses, tired and anxious, and finally being escorted inside to talk to a random girl in each house. Each round, day after day, I'd pin a winning smile on my face and try to come up with something besides my name, major, and hometown to talk about. By the end of the week I was so exhausted that I phoned it in by coasting on clichéd hobbies and interests of a "basic" 20-something-year-old: "I love food! Guacamole is amazing! I love Netflix, too! My favorite show? HAHA! I couldn't even tell you my middle name right now, I'm so tired! How many more days do we have to do this? Also, what was your name again?"

So as you can guess, rush wasn't my absolute favorite week. I consider myself more on the shy side, and I felt like I was surrounded by girls who were bubblier, more uninhibited and better able to deal with the early-October heat than myself. Despite this, at the end of the week, I had found a house. I was suddenly surrounded by the pretty letter shirts I had been envious of and a few hundred girls I didn't know the names of who were now my sisters. It was a whirlwind experience, but I felt like I wasn't as excited as I should have been. After rush, all I really wanted to do was fall into a deep slumber and avoid any social interaction beyond telling the Domino's Pizza guy that, yes, I do require 15 parmesan packets with my order.

I pretty quickly realized that being in a sorority just wasn't for me. The girls were lovely, don't get me wrong, but there were parts of being a sorority sister that I just wasn't a fan of. I don't like to be told what to wear, for one. I remember being 14 and running out of the house with a fiercely tacky red cheetah print blouse topped with cut-up overalls. I cried when my parents laughed me back up the staircase to change, and I still have a certain resentment when I'm forced to conform my outfits to a regimented plan.

I think that gets to the heart of why being in a sorority wasn't for me: I'm very much an individual, and I want to be as in control as possible about what I do and how I use my time. I want to be able to decide what I want to do on a Friday night and not have to worry about getting ready for a date dash when I just want to stay in with my friends and play bingo (this article makes me sound lame, but I swear I'm not). I don't want to spend an hour or more on my Monday nights in chapter when I could be catching up on homework. Finally, I most definitely do not want to be sweating away in a white dress at a required meeting while the Cowboys play the Seahawks (I'm still a little bitter).

I know so many people who are involved with the FSL community who love it, and more power to them. Yet not everyone is supposed to go Greek, because not everyone has the personality to (or has the money! But that's another article, and another day). There's nothing wrong with you if you decide that being around 200 girls is kind of exhausting, or that the thought of having to go to bed in a room with 50 other beds is mildly terrifying (I could never do it). Also, I may or may not be a little weirded-out with the fact that college kids who are about the same age call each other "Big" and "Little." Personally, I found that I much prefer to find my own group of friends, with our own made-up traditions, and create our own "chapter meetings" (which usually involve me hitting on workers at the local McDonald's. Oops).

Now all we need are letter shirts.