You know how people say, “good things come to those who wait,”? Well, I hated that saying all throughout high school and whoever would preach it unto my angsty, hormonal self (sorry mom :/). I was not good at waiting. Patience wasn’t my virtue. I had to either meet things head on or assume that they would never occur altogether.

So fast-forward a whole hundred-day summer break and suddenly I’m about to be a freshman in college. I specifically remember the rest stop where I had my first “daydream” pertaining to how exactly my first year would play out. My family’s Ford Explorer was packed up, I was in the front seat with my mom crying as we neared the Delaware bridge because I couldn’t envision being apart from her. But I could envision something else. I was going to become one of those kids who left high school as one meek and severely subpar person and simply metamorphosized into someone better. And I was going to meet that “someone better” right at the entrance of Harrington E, she was going to be waiting for me, an upgraded version of myself that would naturally overtake my current Frankie and throw her back to Waldwick where she belonged. I was sure of it.

But oh my GAWD was I wrong. Instead, since patience was NOT my virtue, I eagerly met another Frankie outside of Harrington E that day. Hate her, ew. This Frankie was restless in the literal worst way. She knew what she wanted, no matter how shallow. She wanted a friend group to match hers from home. She wanted confidence. She wanted people in Waldwick to sit back and say to themselves “she truly found herself, she truly made it.” She simply wanted to become (and I say this for lack of a better word) a “cool” girl. I tried to meld myself into the first friend group I found. I followed around a whole team of boys who wanted nothing to do with me. I tried to rid myself of my past personas in an attempt to find one more fitting, but I instead squeezed into ones far too stuffy or unusual. If I didn’t have my roommate, I would have transferred.

Second semester, I rushed a sorority thinking it would cure everything. I tried tirelessly to find a home in it because along the way, I came up with this irrational assumption that it took one semester to do so. Friend groups were already established (or so I thought) so once again, without hesitation, I pushed aside the thought of waiting things out and tried to force myself into whatever group I saw as most accessible. That semester, the new, worse version of Frankie grew only more comfortable to me, which is a frightening thing to think back to. I had several different “faces” to try on around people, testing out which one would fit where and who to be in front of whom. Looking back on it, I wasn’t a person, more like a collaboration of fragmented people. Kind of like a Big Bootie Mix but every single part is sung by Pitbull. I hated interactions because I was constantly stressed over who I should be, what would make people like me enough to accept me into their group. Waiting was not an option here, I saw finding a set clique of sorority sisters as do or die. As my first year of college came to a close, I wanted to not only transfer but to also disaffiliate. I was at a loss. It wasn’t like I was sitting back and letting things occur around me. I was actively seeking. I could not for the life of me process what I was doing wrong. I wanted nothing more than to stay home where everything was laid out, who I was supposed to be, what I would become. It seemed so easy. I needed easy.

Since my ego is MASSIVE and I couldn’t figure out how to transfer credits, I didn’t move back home or disaffiliate over the summer, but I had it set in my mind as I entered sophomore year. I honestly even texted a friend who attends college close to home about soccer tryouts for her school team, just to keep my options open. In my mind I was going to finish out the first semester and hightail it home, hoping no one would even notice. I was just going to wait and see. Because of this thought process, I literally gave ZERO.

I didn’t associate with people who made me unhappy, even if I thought I needed them to make my college experience whole, because I saw no point. I mean, if I was really going to transfer, why bother? I didn’t go out if I had no desire to. I said what I thought was funny. I wore what I wanted. I talked to people I wanted to. I was basically waiting out the semester until I could hide back at home with my mom once again. But, unbeknownst to me, I was doing exactly what was needed. I grew so comfortable with myself, I even began to love me. Like, a lot. By waiting instead of searching for new and better Frankies, I just became.

I finally realized that a large group of friends wasn’t needed for happiness, what I had with my roommate, my best friend, was enough. I stopped trying to force my way into friend groups within my sorority and waited, I and another good friend of mine just waited. And it worked. I found my way into an amazing group of sisters (h8 using that term, sounds so "srat" but oh well) whom I love whole-heartedly because they make the dues worth it. I waited and found a love for my school I never thought I would. I simply watched as everything fell into place around me. Patiently, I watched patience become my virtue. I wish I would’ve known this sooner but I guess that’s the one harsh part about waiting, you just have to sit back and trust that every puzzle piece will find its place. And once they do, step back and appreciate what you went through to get where you are; the better form of me that couldn't have waited outside of Harrington E because I had to wait for her. I write this now as my better, my final form of Frankie, because I can’t imagine ever parting with her.