A Lack of Consequence

The most important thing I've learned this semester -- well, it's less of a "learned" and more of a "realized." But I realized when it comes to the "VC weekend activities," I need to stop messing around. With everything. I have a history of alcoholism on both sides of my family. I have a textbook "addictive personality." I have a disturbingly negative body image. This school is offering me too many ways to fully fuck up my life -- I know perfectly well that the day someone lets me do coke, I'm gone. I know what it does to you. Makes you skinny, makes you get things done. But I haven't touched it. I know not to. I keep track of what I drink; I've never blacked out. But a year ago, I had never thrown up from drinking; it's not an uncommon occurrence nowadays. It seems like a slippery slope.

And that other seedy underbelly of Vassar life -- the "hookup culture." If I've learned anything this year, it's that this is NOT FOR ME. It makes the most beautiful things in life meaningless. I want to know that when someone looks me in the eye and tells me not to go, they mean it, and they don't just mean it because they want "some." Knowing that there is more than one guy out there who has seen too much of me, who goes back and talks with their friends about what I'm good at and what I'm not, is more degrading than I ever could have imagined. I don't want to be talked about like an object. I'm not an object. I'm a lady.

It scares me that all of this is so prevalent.
And it scares me even more that the second I'm back, I'll be doing all of it all over again.

littleone