By: Gracie Watkins
Once upon a time, a young girl from some small Pennsylvania town came to Penn State. Her name? Let’s call her Madison. She was attractive, bright, and had dreams of law school ahead of her.
And, right away, she started hooking up with one of Penn State’s typically eligible bachelors: a frat boy. Now, this boy, let’s call him Chad, was a well-liked sophomore in a top tier frat who partied more nights than he studied. They met one night, in typical Penn State fashion, in the basement of some sweaty frat party. It was love at first sight, or should I say…lust. For two weeks, they partied, texted, had sleepovers, got late night snacks, and partied some more.
One chilly fall night, he even introduced her to his friends, or fraternity brothers, not as his girlfriend or anything, but a friend. She was just happy to be introduced. That night, Chad popped the question, “Do you want to go to my date party on Friday?”
But then, on Thursday, he texted with some bad news, “I am really sick and won’t be able to go tomorrow.” When Madison hadn’t heard from him at all over the weekend, she stalked. Scrolling through his Instagram tagged, to her horror, she saw a group photo of him and some other girl arm and arm at the date party.
She told me this over the phone the next day. It was then I realized nobody had told her about the hookup culture of big schools like Penn State. I also realized that she would probably be at his house after the next big frat party this weekend in a futile attempt to revitalize what once was.
Welcome to the age where forehead kisses and holding hands mean nothing. Romance is two a.m. “wyd” snapchat texts, and relationships take the “we” out of “we are”.
There are thousands of girls with stories just like this wandering the streets of State College. We all know them, and each of them are just as beautiful, fun, and kind as the next. They go to class. They get involved. They’ll drain their Lioncash accounts on Starbucks in the Hub. And, yet, they are alone, trapped in this endless cycle of hookups and breakups. I mean, there is only so much Call her Daddy that a girl can listen to before she needs to press pause and close the Spotify app. Heck, even our Founding Father Alex Cooper found someone and got married.
So, what is a girl to do?
It’s like Robert Frost’s “The Road Not Taken”. Two roads diverge in this State College wood. But, which is the one less travelled? Do I just dive headfirst into the hookup culture, or do I avoid the traps and stay chronically single? Does it make all the difference?
Like most girls at Penn State, I did the hookup thing for a while. Hurt and hurt, time and time again, I was sick of the cycle. So, I flipped the narrative. Instead of being hurt by the man, I became the man: no strings attached. Yet, I found my disingenuity worse than before. How did I still feel powerless and out of control? I was destroying relationships, not creating ones. There then came a point where I just had to cut all ties. I was happier staying true to myself and single.
So, the answer, unfortunately, lies within yourself. It is all about knowing the clear-cut signs of a hookup and coming across the occasional, or not so occasional, breakup. And, this comes straight from experience: your experience. My best possible advice is to surround yourself with friends who will listen to your rants and be there when that inevitable breakup occurs.
I have been thinking about how to make a proper introduction, so I figured that I would jump in story first, but alas, it’s time. My name is Gracie, and I am a senior here at Penn State. I have roamed these streets for the past three years and lived to tell the tale. So, if you ever need a guide to anything from relationships, fashion, classes, friendships, best places to go, books, tv shows (because, trust me, I’ve probably been there or know about it), you know where to find me.
Oh, and maybe don’t answer that 2 a.m. text.
Until next time,
Gracie
Comments