As a culture, America is split into two fairly uneven groups: the largest—people who couldn't care less about Greek Life—and the smaller group—people who are, in fact, Greek-affiliated. Many people in the first group have taken significant strides to know as little as possible about sorority life—but they do know about two things: Big and Little. They’re the two with designated bridesmaid spots and pictures "throwing what they know" flooding your timeline.
I’ll be quite honest. I wasn’t a girl who grew up looking at the ditzy, stereotyped sorority girls in movies and wishing to be one of them. My blonde hair was no pre-cursor to my decision to go through PanHellenic recruitment. I went through recruitment for the least picturesque reason: I was really lonely.
I was assured by the Rho Gamma that, in a week, I would run home and everything in my life would make sense.
It didn’t.
I didn’t feel different because I had two letters on my chest, but I stayed in the program, more out of indifference than love in the beginning. I made friends, but I could barely remember the names of half the girls in my pledge class—let alone feel close enough to them to call them sisters.
About a month later, after Reveal, I was whisked away by my new Big to her apartment where we ate ice cream. She told me all about her family and her life, and I told her about mine, and before I knew it, I was in love with her.
I wasn’t a hermit before I went through recruitment—I’ve had boyfriends. But the love I felt for my Big, Sarah, was just different because I knew that she loved me, too, and thinking about meeting a person and loving them so much that you commit to love them for their entire life is terrifying. But that’s what she did for me.
To be honest, I know Sarah isn’t perfect. She snorts when she laughs, and she can fall off the face of the planet for a few days. But to me, I’d petition to place her picture in the dictionary next to the word. I know everyone has flaws; I simply don’t care about hers. I think about how much my Big means to me and everything she’s done for me. I just simply can’t fathom that I assume someone that happens to run home to Phi Mu next year will feel that way about me.
In my biological family, I’m the littlest sister. I have two big sisters and an extra now, just in case. I’m sort of scared to become a Big because I don’t know how to be one and I don’t know if I’ll be any good at it. I’m terrified to become a Big because I don’t understand how I would have made it through my freshman year without my makeshift mom. I don’t want to let my future Little down, if she’s out there at all. They don’t tell you at the Involvement Fair that Bigs do more than eat lunch with you between classes. I’m nervous to become a Big because when Littles have sucky Bigs, it’s not very fair. I’m anxious to become a Big, but I cannot wait to meet someone that makes me feel worthy of the title.
