College Girl Syndrome: The Infamous Freshman 15

Graphic by Yinne Smith

Going into college, I had never had an issue with confidence. Public speaking? Sign me up. Ask a boy on a date? Easy. Wearing something risque or revealing? Zero issues. Sure, I had moments where I didn’t feel perfect about how I looked, but I was armored with an extroverted personality and the knowledge that I am fantastic with people. In my small mountain town in Washington, I didn’t have much of a reason to concern myself with whether or not I was blonde, rich, or sexualized enough to fit a mold that only tangibly existed (in my mind) in Los Angeles or Alabama sororities. 

I started my freshman year of college out of state, only knowing a few people, at a massive PAC-12 school that played host to 32,000 students. The community, and the social life, are on a whole different scale than what I am used to. The culture, too, veered far from the casual grunge and hiker attire I was used to in Seattle. After the first few weekends of partying, meeting boys, and understanding where I fit into things, I realized that I simply did not line up with the beauty standards that rampaged Greek life. Blonde, thin, sorority girls was simply a defining list of characteristics that I was not. I began to hate that when I looked in the mirror. I wish I saw those things instead. 

It is no lie that beginning college is a tumultuous time. We’re all gaining a level of independence we’ve never had before, forced to grow up at an impossibly fast new rate. The stress of a fresh community with a new social dynamic hit me harder than I expected. From passing hundreds of stunning girls daily on the way to class to hearing other students brag in the dining hall that “they’ve only had an iced coffee” to eat that day, I noticed myself slipping into a kind of insecurity that I had never felt before. The pressure to fit in, to fit this mold, quickly deteriorated me from someone who felt like they could impress anyone to someone who couldn’t leave the house for a party sober because the fear of being judged would keep me home. The competitive aesthetics of American college culture impacts more than just your Saturday night out but everything in between.

I had constantly heard about the infamous idea of the “freshman fifteen” going into college before. Infamously, freshmen students in college are rumored to gain around fifteen pounds their first year due to dining hall food, a lack of accountability, and a ridiculous alcohol intake. The idea of this seemed almost impossible to me, as I looked around and saw nothing but disordered eating habits, girls pinching their sides in the bathroom mirror in the middle of a party, and an array of gym addictions and five-mile walks uphill. When an entire community around you is, in some ways, experiencing the same thing, it takes an immense amount of effort to keep your head above water. Drowning in the pressure to skip meals and fit into tiny skirts and get asked to dates and parties by whatever Sig Nu boy you liked became overwhelming. 

I’ve been in college for over a month and a half now. As I have settled, things have begun to change. I thought that I wanted to be thin and beautiful. I thought I wanted to look like I belonged in a Victoria's Secret catalog, with a tiny waist, and bones protruding where they should not, and perfect skin and nails and not a hair out of place. I thought I wanted to look like every blonde sorority girl on my Instagram feed on bid day. Really though, it's not what I wanted.. What I wanted was to be loved, for someone to look at me and see me.

When I look at the root of it, it's about validation. I don’t think I, or anyone else for that matter, wants to look a certain way just for the hell of it. At the end of the party, I just wanted the cute boy I was dancing with to kiss me because he thought I was beautiful enough. At the end of the night, I wanted to prove to myself over and over that it was possible to be loved. To feel  validated, approved of, and wanted. 

College, especially the American university system, is tough. Change is hard. This specific season of life is so short and so fleeting. I feel like it is often underestimated how impactful it can be. The struggle with identity, change, confidence, and the search for what it is that you really want — in life, in love, and in yourself— is so prevalent in this phase. There are moments when I have craved the innocence and self-assured attitude that came from my small town and my old life. However, growth doesn’t happen when you are comfortable, and therefore it is often uncomfortable. So, here’s to growing.