Stop, drop, and roll into the nearest pre-dug grave. Or at least that's what I thought I should do. A mere year ago my parents finally told me I would be going to Rowan University. That’s right, told. I had no say in the matter; the decision was a financial one. I detested Rowan. Hell, I did not even want to apply there, but my mother insisted I did because it was so close and affordable. And sure enough, when a letter from admissions came it had the golden yes in it. I was devastated. My friends were going off to cool and amazing new places for college. They were going to get to experience all the great things a real college kid would get to, while I would be stuck commuting to a college I had no interest in going to.
As the first semester loomed closer my parents attempted to get me excited to go to Rowan. There was the showering of Rowan related gifts, and the casual dropping of fun facts about Rowan at dinner time. But I was just not feeling it. I refused to like Rowan, seeing it as an acceptance of my defeat. I watched all my friends leave and saw all the exciting Instagrams of new dorm rooms and new friendships all from the comfort of my little old room in my parents’ house. Things did not change when the semester started.
I dragged myself to my classes, hating every minute of the walk to and from, and having a strong abhorrence to all my classmates who seemed just as miserable as me. But that wasn’t the case; they simple hated going to class when they could be having fun with all their new friends -- something I still lacked. As time dragged, on I spent as little amount of time at Rowan as humanly possible, devising ways to shorten the time spent between classes and omitting class on days I felt weren’t important. Luckily, my grades did not suffer but I was still miserable. At the end of the first semester, I was greeted with all my friends returning from college sharing their wild stories, leaving me with none.
The beginning of the second semester was equally as terrible. I still did not want to be there, but I was sort of tired of being so miserable all the time. About a month into the semester I saw that rush week was coming up. I always had dreams of being in a sorority since I was much younger and saw this as maybe a potential way of finally enjoying Rowan. I missed the first day of rush week due to work, and was told basically all my shots of getting into a sorority were basically gone. They wouldn’t remember me. So I maybe it was luck, or maybe it was the insane compatibility between me and the sisters of Theta Phi Alpha, when they choose me to be inducted into their lives.
After getting in, I felt an immediate change of my attitude about Rowan. I had friends, people to say hi to. I branched out from my sisters and met even more people all within a matter of months. I loved going to Rowan; I wanted to spend as much time as possible there. I no longer regretted the decision to go to Rowan because I found my home away from home without even leaving home.
Greek life may not be the right fit for everyone, but it was essential in my discovering of both myself and Rowan University. If you are one of the unlucky ones who gets no say in your college decision -- find your niche. Don’t stop, drop, and roll into the nearest grave; instead stop, drop, and roll into the nearest organizational fair at your school and find your home.
