College, a time period dedicated to self-exploration, experimentation and education is when we have the opportunity to chisel out our beliefs, political ideologies and ourselves. If there’s one thing college has taught me about myself, though, it’s that I positively, irrevocably suck at making girlfriends.
When it comes to befriending fellow females, I consider myself a failure. Girls truly are difficult (not to support trivial stereotypes) but we are competitive and, more often than not, constantly judging each other based on what we wear, what we study, what we drink or who we date.
I’m not saying every single college female is the definition of the aforementioned, but I think each of us, including myself, can fall into that prejudice trap.
For example, if one more drunk girl stumbles up to me and slurs, “you’re soo pretty,” I might actually get the nerves to slap her drink out of her hand or dump it on the floor.
And that’s the problem: already I have implied in some way, shape or form I am superior or better because – in this context – I’m sober. But all of us I'm sure at some point to have placed a potential ally into a “dumb” or “annoying” anti-friend zone, relinquishing any potential to a future connection we may have shared. Who’s to say the imaginary female wasn’t giving me a sincere compliment? How many girls have I scoffed at for something so silly? Or have done myself?
Society makes us assume the worst to the point I am not only wary of men, but women as well. I compare myself to complete strangers, getting sucked into my little world of self-doubt, but I also have this crazy list of who can fit my "best friend" slate.
And that’s sad.
Women should not belittle other women – we’re stronger together as opposed to apart.
But I have major trust issues when it comes to opening myself up to the fellow sex because I’ve been at the receiving end of their bullying.
During our teenage years, as we transition from child to adult, most of us suffer from instances of self-doubt – suddenly, we become more aware of both our bodies and our physical, exterior appearances. We all shopped at the same stores – American Eagle, Hollister Co., Abercrombie & Fitch – because we had an innate desire to fit in.
Initially, I always believed my inability to connect with those of the same sex was largely due to the fact that I was so self-conscious. I never felt comfortable around females because I always felt I had to prove to other people that I was “cool” or “hip.”
When I bring up high school and the fact I played lacrosse, people immediately assume I enjoyed those years because I was part of a team so I supposedly had a bunch of friends.
Wrong.
When I was pulled up to Varsity Lacrosse in ninth grade, my coach singled me out after a shooting drill in front of all of my new teammates for making all of the shots I took. He condemned the others. Instead of motivating them to work harder, though, I became the target of harassment by some of the older girls.
My experience playing lacrosse at the varsity level was miserable at best. My passion for the sport dwindled with each passing year and with it, my confidence. After my first day of practice, a teammate grabbed my stick out of my hands to examine the size of my pocket.
“No wonder she made all those shots,” I can recall her saying, “her stick was illegal.”
She then yanked all of my strings, pulling them taught, transforming my well-worn pocket into a tennis racket. She then proceeded to wind layers upon layers of tape, securing her handiwork in place.
It took days for me to get my stick back the way I liked it. I dropped balls, which I would never have done before, my shots went wide and my passes sailed over the heads of my intended receivers.
When it came time for “Big Sister, Little Sister” dynamic in high school athletics, I saw this as an opportunity to be liked by at least someone.
My mom drove me to school early for the first home game. I taped up streamers on her locker and baked her a whole bag of cookies and got her a gift bag.
My “Big Sister” did nothing for me. While everyone else had lockers boasting paper ornaments, mine was left bare and would remain bare for the remainder of the season.
For away games, I sat alone on the bus, barely spoke to anyone; I started to hate lacrosse and I started to hate school.
I never once thought of those incidents as bullying, but how else do you describe it?
As women, shouldn’t we support each other to excel and reach our full potentials? Instead we lash out maliciously when someone does better. Reflecting, from that point on I’ve had sincere issues befriending girls. I have always felt out of place.
And for good reason! Even as those older girls on the team graduated, my other teammates remained just as exclusive. They all had the chance to form tight-knit bonds at junior varsity. I didn’t party in high school, either, so I never hung out with the majority of my teammates off the field. I was quiet, which, if you DO know me (and well), I’m extremely loud. None of them took the time to reach out to me or get to know me. Passes again failed to come my way.
Our team was the definition of selfish. Everyone was out for themselves and their own individual stats, a bunch of ball hoggers hoping to see their name in print in the local newspaper.
I was the same way except, at some point, I stopped taking shots altogether.
I thought: maybe people will like me if I pass them the ball more. So I just started to throw the ball away.
Long story short – my high school experience was awful, chiefly due to my inability to find the value of myself.
This feeling of distrust would continue in college, albeit freshman year where everyone loves everyone the first few months.
And I was happy – I had never had so many close friends in my entire life. I had always had just my cousin and two best friends, one of which was a boy. But in college, no one cared if I played lacrosse or not (I ended up playing club, but the relaxed atmosphere was refreshing).
But girls turn mean, quickly, and without warning.
We’re easy to offend, easy to upset. And I, for one, begrudge my anger silently and unknowingly, keeping my frustrations or negativity to myself. I was at the receiving end of the same inhibitions, a friend of mine, a roommate, actually, felt antagonized but kept those feelings suppressed until she all but exploded out of anger and annoyance. I can’t blame her; I probably would have had similar sentiments.
During college, I think we learn whom we can really get along with.
But I think, as girls, we need female companionship – being with the opposite sex isn’t fulfilling. There’s something satisfying in rallying behind each other, supporting each other’s goals, and sharing in similar experiences of strife when it comes to gender.
In all my readings of classic literature, strong female friendships are a necessity to happiness – think The Little Women, Jane Eyre, Anne of Green Gables and any Austen novel.
So I’m going to wash my hands of the past and find the value in feeling close with a group of girls.
