An open letter to sorority recruitment:

First of all, how am I supposed to look my best at 7:45 AM for 5 days in a row?

In case you haven’t experienced recruitment or never felt the need to, allow me to give you a summary of it. You are first lined up in alphabetical order, pushed into a room smaller than your average bathroom, and forced to wait until around 150 girls open the doors to a room and start screaming, clapping, and singing.

You are then picked up by a girl who has been assigned to you who has to pretend she doesn’t know anything about you, when in reality she already knows your blood type and your first pet’s name. You then proceed to pretend to be oh-so-excited to be there and be the happy peppy self that you obviously are at all times of the day.

This goes on for several days, and each day when you open up your schedule for the day, there will be fewer houses than the day before. Whether they cut you or you cut them, you will end up with around three (depends on your school and how many chapters they have). They say it’s supposed to be a mutual process.

In the end, one of three things will happen. You can be one of the few lucky ones who get their top house. You can end up getting your second or third choice, and even if you didn’t necessarily want them, you’re okay with it. Or, you can be one of the unlucky people who either get released from the system, meaning you got dropped from all the chapters, end up dropping because you didn’t like the options you had left, or get a bid from a chapter you didn’t love.

So, with that said, an open letter to sorority recruitment:

It’s not a mutual process, at all. You make girls feel like they don’t belong, like they aren’t good enough for anything. As insignificant as you are, you make recruitment week hell. And I wish that was the end of it, but it’s not. For some girls, every day and every t-shirt, Instagram post, and group of girls is a constant reminder of what could’ve been and what they could’ve been a part of.