The Sorority Body-Image Problem

I should have known sorority life was not for me.

My gut reaction was telling as I walked down the checkerboard floors of the veranda at the Carolina Inn. I sat at a small table, one of 20 or so, in one of the Inn's elegantly furnished banquet halls. I was provided with a glass of water, a box of tissues, an index card on which to list my sorority preference, and an attentive alumna ready to help me make my choice. It was the fourth and final day of rush at the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill and I had a decision to make. Having only been called back by one sorority out of 10, I would have to choose whether or not Greek life would be a part of my experience as a student. I hesitated as I ran my finger across the blank space on the card where my signature would be. I signed my name and then I cried.

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