Lessons on peer pressure started, for me, around middle school. We received several large presentations about them throughout the years. At the time, it was just relief from the classroom; I couldn’t connect to the message. I had a very small tight-knit friend group with relatively the same interests and ideals. The lectures continued into high school, and still, I couldn’t relate. I took the message to heart, wary of any possible peer pressuring interactions, yet they never came. Even as my core group grew and changed, we all still agreed too much for peer pressuring to be possible. We were “good kids”: alcohol and drugs never appeared at our parties, we didn’t break the rules, and school was always the number one priority. Some of us were raised to believe those things were linked with irresponsibility. I was just brought up to assume that those activities weren’t necessary to have fun.

The summer before I left for college, I became paranoid. I didn’t want to be the kid who had never gotten drunk or high. Yet any opportunity I had to rectify this, I turned it down. My biggest fears were disappointing my mother and losing control, as my alcoholic father would. Both were such unpleasant thoughts that once I actually got to drinking, I already felt sick. My mother assured me I would find other people, like my friends, who didn’t like to drink. With that, I was prepared to enter college optimistically.

Unfortunately, reality came crashing down before I even got to SDSU. I came into contact with my two roommates, Autumn and Genie (whose names have been changed for privacy). We texted and eventually shared Snapchats. For what seemed like every day leading up to move-in day, Autumn posted pictures and videos of herself smoking and drinking. These were public videos on her “story” — anyone in her Snapchat contacts could see them. I asked her if she partied much. Her reply terrified me: “Yeah, we go pretty hard here.” I was already at odds with one of my roommates, and still am, several months later.

I avoided parties, and thus alcohol and drugs, for a solid couple weeks. But around the third week of college, for the first time in my life, I felt peer-pressured. My roommates, as well as the majority of the friends I had made on my hall, were living the true college experience, while I stayed in my room doing homework or, more often than not, talking to my family on the phone. Every day, following a night out, all anyone would talk about is how much fun they had the night before — and how I had missed out again. Once classes started, things slowed down a little bit. Yet every weekend, they would inevitably start again.

This past weekend, I made the decision to go out with them. I talked excessively beforehand with my 25-year-old brother, who had experienced college parties relatively recently. Usually, I would have turned to my mother, yet I knew her answer would be, “Just don’t drink.” I had succumbed to the fact that it was going to happen. My brother left me with plenty of advice. A lot of it depended on my new friends being respectful of my wishes to not drink too much; unfortunately, they weren't.

“Ali, I’m going to peer pressure you. You have to drink.” Those exact words left my friend’s mouth, as we “pre-gamed.” Pre-gaming was a new concept I learned once I got to college, in which you drink before you go out. Apparently, this concept has changed immensely. To my brother, you only pre-gamed if you knew there wasn’t going to be alcohol at your party. Now, it was just an excuse to “start having fun” before you even got to the party. Showing up sober to a party is now frowned upon. Here I was, surrounded by my new peers, expected to drink. My plan of pretending to drink went out the window. “Just finish the can,” they said, all watching me. I took a couple (disgusting) sips and had to tap out. My anxiety was already through the roof. I was faced with my options: leave completely and risk losing all of my new friends because I’m “lame", completely disregard all of my values and get drunk, or — the option I took — pretend to drink and try to fade into the background. I made my choice, and now I’m always the odd man out: the only one sober, even at casual hangouts.

I feel immensely ostracized because of my decision; but, in the end, I’m staying true to myself which matters more to me. This is a decision every student will have to make at one point during their college experience; a universal decision, spanning across every campus. From San Francisco State, where my friend says, “Everyone [roommates and new friends] has been super accepting of my choices,” to NYU, where another friend states she is pressured “to do everything: to drink, go out, and skip class.” Just remember, it should ultimately be your decision. Whether you give into peer pressure or not, try to remain true to yourself.