Friends, Frats, and Feelings
One of my biggest anxiety traps is when I begin to compare my social life to everyone else’s. That’s when the doubts and the insecurity fill me up–after all, if I’m not having as much fun as most people or am being hit on as much as most girls are or even have as many friends as most people it must be because I’m too shy, not pretty or skinny enough, not interesting… And I will admit, that’s pathetic. I know I am better than that bullshit. I had my insecure years through middle school and my doubts whenever guys have treated my unfairly; I need to stop thinking that what is right for other people is necessarily right for me. But…that doesn’t take the sting of occasional loneliness away. Well…actually I wouldn’t call it loneliness, just a lack of comfort that I had with friends from home. You know that comfort you have around old friends where silence is okay sometimes and there’s never any pressure to be more or less than what you are? That’s it. That’s the sting I’m talking about.
I did however, make one big step onto the social scene yesterday. I went to my first college frat party! And before you get the impression that I got rip-roaring drunk, let me tell you that I did not. I did drink a little bit though, and I did actually have fun without being drunk. My new friend that I went to high school with (see last post), let’s call her Caitlin, had a great time cracking up about what the completely trashed girls we went with were saying. And I don’t mean that in a cruel way, just in a goofy way. They were very open about what they wanted (to have sex) and very affectionate (“you’re SO NICE!”), and if was just sort of funny to hear them go on about things (“I am not a drunk…I mean, I party every night and everything, but I am not a drunk, I pinky promise.”). And it was fun to dance and see what a real frat house looked like. The frat guys were ridiculous, though. Most of them were completely wasted, and took things like minor eye-contact as an invitation to come over and introduce themselves and their sleazy, crooked smiles. So some stuff like that was pretty stereotypical. There was chugging, there was grinding on the dance floor, there were guys in togas, the ol’ same things you’d expect from a university frat. Girls were dressed as angels from heaven and satan from hell, but then there were others in cocktail dresses, jean shorts, and T-shirts. The floors were always sticky and wet from spilled alcohol, empty cans and cups were scattered about. But like I said, not bad time. It was interesting to witness all of it and think, “So people actually live like this…”.
It made me miss my boyfriend, though. Sure, there were tons of cute guys, but that only made me think of how much I wanted MY cute guy. And around him I never feel insecure about if I have a pimple on my nose or am not wearing the cutest outfit, I know he doesn’t just see someone to sleep with, but someone to BE with. I only have 6 more days until I see him, though, so I’m trying to stay positive. Not having him around isn’t as easy as having him at my side all the time…that’s were some of this insecurity comes in. Around him I feel great, but not having that confidence boost constantly is going to take some getting used to. As bad as it sounds, convincing me to like me takes more work than convincing anyone else. Somehow my boyfriend knows how to convince me, though. And if it wasn’t enough to miss him for him, now I also miss who I am when I’m around him.
But after a day of sleeping in and watching three Harry Potter movies with Caitlin, being the sort of girl who is only satisfied by going out every night doesn’t sound too appealing, anyway.