Where I found A Home Away From Home

My Chi Omega Journey

As I walked through the doors of orientation, I was a hopeful and nervous freshman, about to explore my home for the next four years. My parents were still by my side, so it was not yet quite that intimidating. As I was guided through the process of signing up for my first semester of college, that In my head, could change the course of my life forever, I left feeling good about where I was headed. Not quite sure where yet, as I came in undeclared, but I had a feeling it was in the right direction. CSU was where I was supposed to be. Moving into the dorms was a breeze thanks to the Greek life boys who unwillingly moved my dresser (yes I brought a whole dresser for my tiny college dorm), microwave, and all the other stuff that I apparently could not live without for a year. I met my freshman roommate, and of course she had as much stuff as I did, so the goal for the next 24 hours of my life, was trying to figure out how we were going to fit two girls and all their awesome stuff into a dorm room fit for a large closet. It was a struggle to say the least. By a stroke of nothing short of a miracle, we managed the impossible. This was of course only possible if by bed was no joke, a foot from the ceiling. ‘So this was going to be fun’, was the exact words going through my head. By day two, I was overwhelmed with the stupid ram welcome leaders, and their stupid schedule that was supposedly mandatory, but I didn’t come to college just to be told what to do for my first week. So yes that was me, the ‘too cool for school’ kid that didn’t participate in the ram welcome activities that I am sure they spent all summer working on. Instead I dedicated my time to getting my life organized in my small closet of a room, and clinging to my parents for what time I had left with them. I had a couple break downs, but the worst was when I was getting my bike registered, because of course every freshman comes to college with a nifty cruiser with a basket on the front that says ‘naive flower child, ready for freshman year’. Thought it was cool but little did I know I stuck out like a sore thumb as the eager freshman who thought I was still going to take and hour and get ready for class everyday. Anyway, back to the bike registration where I was sitting alone in the car as my parents went to go see what was up with the bikes, I sat there and cried. I cried! 18 year old me, ready to take the world by storm, cried because she was going to be left alone that day, not going to be able to see my parents until break. Things got real, real fast. So they last goodbyes were said, tears were shed, and I was standing outside watching my parents drive away, lets be real, probably giving a sigh of relief finally getting rid of their last child, excited for topless Tuesdays, and naked hot tub Fridays. Ew.

Classes have started. And I have zero friends, except for my super cool roommate who’s whole graduating class basically came to CSU, so I wasn’t about to enter into that tight nit friend circle where everyone knew each other since preschool. First day of class, pretty sure I wore a dress. Who am I. I look back and laugh at my optimism. hahhahahha. Yeah that didn’t last long, I would soon realize that I didn’t bring enough yoga pants and sweatshirts. Classes were intense, finding a routine was hard, the dorm food was good, but I was afraid of the freshman 15, so I spent most of my time at the rec center. That was my sanctuary. Couple weeks went by, and I began to wonder why in the world everyone says that college is the best four years of your life. Whoever said that was on drugs apparently because I was broke, stressed out, and was living in a closet. Okay cool. My mom said it would get better, but I was less than cautiously optimistic.

Rush week happened, and that’s when everything changed for the better. Things were starting to become bearable. It was a week of blurred conversations, hot walks to houses I had no idea how to pronounce, and girls that seemed to have everything together, that I just wanted to be like them. Looking back, those four days of rushing was the most intense job interview I have ever experienced, which was actually for my own good. I had my outfits planned out for about a week prior to this, so that aspect of my life was in check. I had no idea what to expect, because my small town’s impression of the one sorority Greek life they know is ‘tappa tappa kegga’. They couldn’t be so far off. Every house I entered the girls told me all about their philanthropy, how they expect high GPA’s, and their goals for the future. I was surrounded by lady bosses, and I was right at home. It was the hardest time trying to decide where I would spend the next four years of my collegiate career. This decision could determine my outcome of a successful or unsuccessful CSU experience. Or so I thought. It was a big deal, so which ever one I chose, I am sure I would have had an amazing experience, with amazing friends, but thank goodness my heart landed on the red brick house with the white pillars. That is where I found my home away from home. I fell in love the second day of rush week, and knew this had to be the place I belonged after I had a conversation with a girl who would later become my Greek family, about hating going to the gym and seeing girls with their hair down. Like is this a fashion show or are we trying to get our sweat on here? After that, I was hooked. It was a miracle that I had the opportunity to talk with the girls I talked to, because if it was any different, who knows where I would be today.

The rest was all down hill from this moment, I turned in my bid card, and was running to meet the Chi O’s, my sisters, my new home, shortly after. I went from a terrified freshman wanting to pack my bags and move home forever, to a girl with confidence, a support system, and role models to look up to. I owe so much gratitude to my sorority, and what it offered to me, and this story ended with a happily every after.