Member-only story
The Price of Being Seen
Through the eyes of the girl they all loved to hate.
When I first stepped onto my college campus, I had high hopes. I was pretty, smart, and talented, with a passion for writing that I carried everywhere proudly. My family and I wanted me to study something “practical,” so I chose Industrial Design — a male-dominated field with only seven girls in the entire department. Still, I was optimistic. I told myself this would be the best five years of my life. I’d make lifelong friends, ace my studies, and grow into the person I wanted to be.
But things didn’t go as planned.
The guys always had this weird look in their eyes whenever they looked at me, but I didn’t know the meaning, and I never really cared to dig for what it might mean because I genuinely couldn’t careless.
By nature, I’m an introvert.
Socializing doesn’t come easily to me, but I didn’t want to come across as rude or standoffish. I forced myself to put on a smile, even though it felt unnatural. I made small talk when I’d rather have stayed quiet. And after a few weeks, I found my group: Patricia, Paris, and Poppy.
At first, they seemed like the perfect friends — funny, outgoing, and always down for an adventure. Once I had them, I stopped forcing myself to meet new people.
