My Sisters, My Expedition Team

When asked recently the most extreme thing I’ve ever done, I contemplated for a while before I responded “ joining a sorority”.

Everyone has their mountains to climb. For me those started out more metaphorically than literally. My own personal Everest formed in the shape of keeping female friendships. I struggled to fit in and find my niche growing up, like many other kids do. In essence, I was a solo climber. What I eventually learned is that in this climb called life, I was simply ill-equipped to really go at this alone. To truly succeed (summit) I needed an expedition team.

The greatest setback over the years came as recurring avalanches. I suffered mental, physical, and sexual abuse from an older girl in my neighborhood. In the wake of those events was a debri field far greater than I could understand at the time. I spent many years in that debri field, trying to pick up the pieces and find my way out. It took years before I could look back and realize I was lucky to be alive. I often wonder if it was sheer luck, or unrelenting perseverance that didn’t lead me down the path of addiction or suicide like so many others who experience similar traumas. However, although alive, I did not come out unscathed. Scars and haunts developed and a tortured soul relented. In many ways, the abuse carried on and took form through self inflicted mental damage which surely lead to my depression.

It just became easier as time went on to avoid the uncomfortable circumstances of befriending women. I found solace in my more masculine pursuits of sports, science, and math. Looking back, I feel grateful I had those healthy outlets available to me otherwise I’m not sure how things would have turned out. By the time I had reached my junior year of college, I was in a predominately male career path (engineering) and living with six guys. That environment became my security and being a tomboy was title I wore like an old glove, close and comfortable.

However, many nights I would still find myself vegging out watching Sex and the City, longing not for their Jimmy Choos or fleeting romances, but for my tribe, my expedition team. No longer content sitting home wishing for my Carrie, Charlotte, Miranda, and Samantha I set out on a mission. True to form, I drove in head first and began rushing a sorority and got comfortable being uncomfortable.

Bid Day Spring 2006

A few short weeks later, I got my bid on a beautiful spring day and fortunately I never got what I wanted. I never got my fab four like Sex and the City. I did nonetheless, get exactly what I needed; my expedition team. I walked up to the sorority house that day to find over twenty women waiting, cheering, banging pots and pans, and celebrating my arrival as if it was the New Year. Their arms were outstretched ready to embrace me, and I braced myself as if I was ready to jump off a bridge into a cool river. I took a deep breath, let the cold anxious feelings wash over me, and then slowly become dissipated by the warmth and love around me.

Epsilons - Spring 2006 

All the while the only thing I could hear was a little voice in my head saying, “ They picked ME, they want ME.” Me - for all my bumps and bruises, my non-girly ways. They want me. Looking back at that moment, I can’t help but acknowledge that while what I wanted was girlfriends, what I truly needed was love and acceptance. Love and acceptance from not only other women, but from myself.

It was in that moment, I realized I didn’t have to be exactly like them or every other woman. They appreciated me because I was different. I didn’t have to be like them for them to love me and want to call me their sister. They were proud of my more tomboy pursuits. They bragged about the former wrestler and showed up at my hockey games with posters making me one of the few players with a whole cheering section. All the support and acceptance helped me to truly embrace our motto, "Esse Quam Videri - to be rather than to seem to be" and let me be more me. Eventually embracing it so hard, I got it tattooed on my wrist.

Best cheer section to date

It’s been ten years since my bid day and most people still find it shocking that I joined a sorority. It still remains one of the best decisions I’ve ever made. When I think about the woman I’ve become and the difficulties I’ve faced, I know I wouldn’t be half the woman I am without the women in my life.They’ve been the first ones to send me words of encouragement on each new crazy venture I take and they still show up to my sporting events with posters. Others have roped up with me to take the mountain on together, others to give me the beta (advice) on the climb ahead, some have gone ahead to break trail, other times they’ve let me take the lead, and lastly some maintained support from base camp waiting for my return, ready to welcome me home and mend any injuries that ensued. Through it all, they teach me to believe, to be vulnerable, to accept, to support, and most of all to love. They truly have been my expedition team as I summit every new peak that life presents and I couldn’t be more grateful.


To my soul and summit sisters, yours in true sisterhood - Nicole

Another lap around the sun

As we complete another lap around the sun and begin a new one, I’ve been reflecting on not only this past lap but also my past 31 laps around the sun. In reflection, I can’t help but look at a questionnaire I filled out at eleven about who I would be at thirty.  Needless to say, thirty came and went this past year and I’m still not the person my eleven-year-old self thought I would be. My eleven-year-old self said I would be married, have kids, be a doctor, live some place where there is peace and quiet in Pennsylvania, and that I would be worried about taxes, bills, and recycling. The questionnaire also asked what I would do in my leisure time and I left it blank... BLANK!!!!!  While I could be upset at the fact that I’m not the person I thought I would be when I was eleven, part of me is relieved. Many of those answers except for the finding some peace and quiet somewhere in PA (NJ is close enough), were based on what I feel like I should do or what I could do to be happy. What did upset me was that my eleven year old self couldn’t dream of what I would in my leisure time thirty.  

More often than not, I get the impression that people believe the person I am today is someone I’ve always been. Looking at my eleven year old self’s idea of who I would be today its obvious that it isn’t true.  While it is slightly depressing I couldn’t imagine how I would one day spend my leisure time, it’s given me hope. It reminds me we don’t have to become the people we think we are or think we will be. 

We are the story we tell ourselves. And for a long time, I told myself a very gloomy and unhappy story. I believed I was a lonely, miserable, person who didn’t deserve happiness or the company of other people. It wasn’t until I hit my rock bottom that I began to tell myself a new story: a story of love, happiness, fun, and inclusion. For a long time I thought I wanted my story to end, when in reality I just wanted a new chapter. We have the power to tell ourselves a new story not just every new year but every new day, every new minute, and every new second. Each second is a choice to continue with your story or to make a choice to start a new one. 

When I look back on my eleven-year-old self, I wish I could tell her that we are not always the people we tell ourselves, we have the ability to change the stories we tell ourselves, and that all of the things I thought I should do to try to make me happy, might not actually make me happy.  Instead, I wish I could help her value being present, appreciating the now, and continuing to create a story that I want tell. I wish I could help her understand that those values will help lead me to the place I need to be.  For my 2016 resolutions, I’m going to live by those values I wish I could have given myself 20 years ago and learn to appreciate that I am exactly where I need to be.