Before I even went off to college, I knew that I’d never be a part of Greek life. It’s expensive, it’s time-consuming, and I knew I’d never end up going to the meetings anyway. But not partaking in Greek life meant sacrificing a big benefit of it… finding roommates.
My freshman year, I lived on campus in a gloriously outdated residence hall named Blair-Shannon. I had one roommate and five suitemates. It was cramped, to say the least. When I moved out my sophomore year, I felt disheartened that I hadn’t clicked with any of the girls enough to want to room with them again. So I moved into a one-bedroom, off-campus apartment on my own. And it. Was. HEAVEN.
I never realized the luxuries in life I was missing out on! Pants are 100% optional when you live solo.
Don’t feel like doing the dishes tonight? No one is going to scold you when you leave them in the sink until tomorrow! Want to take a 45-minute shower? Go ahead, there’s no guilt to feel when you finally emerge to realize someone had been waiting for their turn!
You can decorate as you please, without your southwest, desert vibe being interrupted by your roommate’s life-size cardboard cutout of Charlie Chaplain.
When I realized just how much I adored living on my own, a lot of guilt followed. There seems to be this societal pressure on college-aged kids that we’re supposed to turn into herd animals for these few years of our lives, living 6 people in one house and behaving as a pack. But in the end, we’re all individuals with varying tastes and preferences.
There’s nothing wrong with having your own specific tastes. (unless you put ketchup on your Mac and Cheese, then there’s something seriously wrong with you.) If living alone is what suits you, like it does me, then go for it. You’re living this life for yourself and yourself alone.