When I think of the typical sorority girl, I think of a girl with beautiful long, blonde hair, tan skin, tall and skinny, and she is perfectly poised. She is best friends with everyone in her sorority, and she is the go-to person in her new member class for anything social and fun. She is the Homecoming Queen, cheerleader, lovely lady – always the girl that the guys want to talk to.

But then... there's me. Cue the definition of me in a photo from high school.

Awkward. (photo via: Jessica Kim)

I'm sort of short. I have brownish, mousy hair. I am by no means a skinny girl (hey, I really enjoy food, what can I say?). I am too loud. I fall over onto myself. I spill everything I eat and drink. I have tattoos. I have piercings. I'm a fine arts major. When I tell people I'm a sorority woman, I get funny looks. "You? They gave you a bid?"

I guess you could say I'm just different. I hate it when people say, "I'm not like other girls/guys!" because usually, that means they really are like other people. But when I say it, I'm dead serious. My whole life, I have never really fit in anywhere. You know how in junior high and high school everyone had their little "cliques?" That just wasn't me. Not that I didn't have friends, but I didn't really identify with anyone. I had a group of really close girl friends throughout high school, and I dated band nerds. I was my own best friend half of the time because... People just didn't get me.

I don't wanna say that this isn't my fault. I spent countless hours in the choir room in high school. I cared so much about music and so much about making good grades that I didn't have time to go out and make a bunch of friends and have those wild nights that everyone from my hometown reminisces about. "Hey! Remember that one time when we all–" No. "Wow, I can't believe when we did–" Me neither, because... I wasn't there.

The summer going into college was interesting. I cut all my hair off and wanted to start college in a fresh, new way. My sister was convincing me to go through recruitment when I got to UT Arlington, but I shuddered at the idea. Me? A sorority girl? All right, let me drop 20 pounds and sleep in a tanning bed for a few days, maybe then they'll even look at me. My sister was an Alpha Chi Omega at UTA several years prior. She's the definition of the perfect woman, and I thought that there was no way that they would let me in their sorority, even though I was a legacy. How could they?

I signed up for recruitment on the last day that I could. I literally rolled my eyes the entire time I was filling out the questionnaire. I felt humiliated that all I could say for myself is that I had been a choir nerd my entire life, and that I went to choir conventions and competitions for singing and for computers and for generally pretty un-cool things. I could imagine the girls on the other side of recruitment, laughing at my information and my awkward headshot and thinking, "Why would a music major want to be in a sorority?" It was like I was about to step back into the halls of my high school all over again, and I was dreading it.

I went out with my roommate the day before recruitment started, and we bought some new shorts for Day One. I got these cute, teal-colored shorts from Target (that I still wear today) and decided to have a good attitude about recruitment. I was just going to go through with a fake smile and hope that someone liked me enough to invite me to join their sisterhood. Maybe the shorts will help. Maybe some make up will help. Maybe curling my hair and getting new jewelry will help. Maybe.

Recruitment was a blur, and the only thing I really remember (other than meeting my perfect, amazing, lovely big sis on Day One and having her talk to me at the preference round) was that I only felt my heart feel at home in one place. Alpha Chi Omega. Not to dog on the other sororities that I went to, because those are wonderful organizations as well, but I didn't feel like I could go to those houses and feel welcome. I truly felt like the conversations I had with Alpha Chi really made me realize that not every sorority woman was as I thought. I saw girls (in every sorority really) that I identified with. I saw girls who looked like me. Who acted like me. Who smiled like me. Who did their hair like me. Who understood the same weird humor like me. Hannah, my big, even understood all the choir conventions and competitions I went to and participated in. I didn't even think anyone cared about that stuff, and I actually found someone who did them too! DURING RECRUITMENT!

Fast forward two years later, add a few piercings, and draw on a couple of tattoos, too. Add an exec position and lifelong friendships with women who I never would have thought would have given me the time of day before. I still have trouble sorority squatting. I still have trouble wearing lots of make up and doing my hair for recruitment. I can't take candid, laughing photos. I have a horrendous potty mouth. I can't make a cooler. I still have a hard time looking presentable, and our chapter meetings on Mondays. But that doesn't make me any less of a sorority woman. Just because my outward appearance doesn't align with what people think a sorority woman should be, does not make me any less of a hard-working leader and strong woman. I don't really care if I get weird looks when I say I'm in a sorority. Fine. Go ahead and judge me for having art on my body and wild hair. It doesn't matter what anyone thinks about me, and the only opinions that I ever take into consideration are those of my sisters (who gave me the bid in the first place) and myself.

(photo via: Shaylee Walsh)

I am the definition of a sorority woman. I just might not always look the part.