Living in a Sorority House

Graduating from college is always a huge change. I always expected the tears, the fears of what now, and the dread of a full-time job. I knew that was coming. The thing that came from left field, though, was the unrelenting sadness I felt at leaving my 40 roommates and our big beautiful house.

When I first joined a sorority, I knew I wanted to live in our house. I saw all of the older girls having the best time, getting ready together in the bathroom, having movie nights in the TV room, and overall just experiencing college together in a way you can't understand unless you do it. Once I moved into an apartment, my mind never changed. I was constantly asked by my mom how in the world I could go from my own space to sharing a bathroom with 40 other women. My current roommates kept trying to bribe me into staying at our perfect apartment. With all of that, I just knew in my gut I HAD to move in this house.

Sorority life was never a fearful time for me. It was never like the movies, with girls who were mean-spirited and cruel or facey and judgemental. ADPi was the purest of sisterhoods, a place I knew I could run home to at any time and be welcomed, consoled, uplifted, and loved in any state I walked through it in. The women I hold dear to me have treated me in ways I could have only hoped for in life. They have shown me true friendship and love.

As very much established by all my above ramblings, living in house was always going to be something I did and loved, so why did it catch me by surprise how much I love this place? There is no proper way to describe living in a sorority house. Not in any way that makes sense. It is overwhelming and joyful and full of the best memories and the best stories. You feel safe and heard and supported. It is "girlhood" at its finest. The loudness and bustle of meals during the week or the serenity of the weekends. The constant air conditioning troubles. The squeaky floorboards you tiptoe around not to wake your roommate. The shared bathroom talks. Sitting on whoever's floor to have this week's debrief. The sun on your back as you study in the sunroom. Piling onto the TV room couch for bachelor nights. This place is just perfect. It truly was the best year of my life.

As I walked to the bathroom the night before graduation to take one last shower in our little shared place I couldn't stop crying. Truly, I was begging noone would wake up and catch me- I was taking said shower at 3 AM. I cried thinking about how I wouldn't ever be woken up at 2am to Caroline and Jada stomping to free bird in their room. I wouldn't ever have Vall sneak into my room and ask to run to Target or grab a coffee. I wouldn't be able to walk out the door and see Emory calling her mom in the hammock or reading in the rocking chairs. I wouldn't ever come rushing down the hall to my room and check the mirror as I open the door to see if Hannah is home or not so I can tell her whatever mindless thing happened while I was out. I wouldn't be able to talk the entire time I shower to whoever is in the next stall. I wouldn't be able to sit in the basement with Chloe, Anna, and KJ and watch Sex in the City. I wouldn't be able to meet in the foyer and start the trek to collegetown. I wouldn't be able to cook pastina and all of us eat straight from the pot. I wouldn't be able to live with 40 of my closest friends in the same house as me ever again. These were all such silly things to cry over, but it makes you realize how special the little moments are. I will not remember crying over classes, but I will remember my sisters who cheered me up after. This realization hit me harder than anything else. I didn't care about leaving college; I didn't care about what lies next or what job I am going to have. I cared about this place and these people. How was I ever going to learn to live without them?

Well, let me let you in on a little secret. Not much has changed. Yeah, I will never get to experience those things again, but now I get things even better. I get to drive to Jacksonville for a weekend to hang out on the beach with Ashton, meet Lauren in Tampa and take her to all of my favorite spots, go on Bayshore walks with Ashley, go trinket shopping with Vall and Maddie in Orlando, call Hannah every night, and force Emory and Megan to have a sleepover. Things have changed, but the effort we put in to stay connected means so much more than anything else ever could. We actively choose to stay friends and go out of our way to see each other. And there's not much more I could ask for. I came out the other side of this year with new friends, deeper bonds, and a deep love that will last for years to come. We love each other enough to put energy into each other beyond walking five steps down the hallway. So yeah, does leaving this house suck? Absolutely. But it is made better by the friends and love I get to keep with me.

So, as I leave this house, know I am leaving a better person, surrounded by better people. Thanks for the memories, 537.

Us on the last graduation ceremony...most of the house was packed up and this was our last moment there before move out the next morning. Wow do I love these people.

Our very last lawn photo...emo asf. But truly...how many people can say that they genuinely care for this many people. How lucky am I?

Our in-house Christmas card...I will tell my kids about this one day.

Me and Hannah Rix. My very best friend and roommate. Living in house is made 100000 times better when you have a gal like this by your side.

Our last hug at ADPi. Move-out day. Honestly the most emotional day of my life.

https://video.wixstatic.com/video/1b3ed7_cc9e42f8acc24ce0868339cca1ea4aa4/1080p/mp4/file.mp4

Mattress surfing our very first night living in house.

We left our mark, and that's all we can do!

If you ever get so lucky as to get to live in the walls of 537 W Jefferson Street, soak it all up. Don't get too sad when you leave, though; it will always open its arms to welcome you back.

XX Alex