The FULL College Experience

We’re not talking about pulling all-nighters to write papers here. Parties, drinking, hookups and a portfolio of crazy stories, now that’s the full college experience I’ve heard about. College students are practically expected to live this life! The question is: is it worth it?

This is my story.

I was one of those girls who grew up in a Christian home with lots of siblings, by whom I was deemed the goody-two-shoes who always did what’s expected of her. In high school, I excelled in academics, sports, and music, had a good group of friends, and was formed in my faith just like any other kid who got dropped off at church on Wednesday nights. My moral compass seemed to be properly aligned, and I wanted nothing to do with the drinking or parties I knew were happening amongst some of my peers.

Then I went to college.

The girl who walked onto campus as a freshman was definitely the same girl who walked out of high school three months earlier, but it didn’t take long for the pressures to settle in. At first I stuck to what I knew – I didn’t want to drink underage, wanted my first kiss to be with someone very special (that’s right, I didn’t have my first kiss until after high school) and I was even studying theology and involved in faith-based clubs. I felt confident and unashamed to live this out!

The first moment I remember really questioning my ideals was in the spring of my freshman year. I was on the track team, and during a post-practice dinner one night with the other freshman, we stumbled upon the subject of drinking. My teammates shared their experiences in high school as well as the stories they’d already collected in college that year as I sat listening, but without stories of my own. I didn’t mind.

Then, in a break between stories, one of my teammates chimed, “I can’t wait until Kari turns 21 so we can see what she’s like!”

Woah. How am I supposed to respond to that?

I went into defense mode. Why did they assume I wouldn’t drink until I’m of age? I guess I had done a good job of living my morals, but now, for the first time, I began to question them. In high school I could pretty much just slide under the radar when it came to this stuff, but now it felt different. Now it felt like there was a neon sign flashing above me saying “KARI THINK’S SHE’S TOO GOOD FOR US!” Trust me, not a fun feeling.

I began to fudge the lines, but just a little bit. It was rare that I drank, and if I did, it wasn’t much. Yet all around me I saw indulgence. And it didn’t look wrong. In fact, it looked fun!

Finally, I turned 21.

I felt a bit freer now, but still couldn’t figure out how I felt about the party scene. Something within me still said it wasn’t right, yet a whole lot of other voices were telling me I was just overthinking. I should just live a little, right? It eventually got to the point where I asked myself:

Am I going to regret not having stories to share about my “full college experience,” OR, if I do make those memories, will I come to regret those very stories?

Swayed by the pressures all around me, I opted for fitting in. Yes, I got my stories. Yes, I finally fit in. And yes, my track friends got their fill of their long-awaited wonderings. I’m not going to lie; I had a lot of fun. Yet little did I know the impact this would have on my story yet to be written.

So typically, this is where I should share my rock-bottom experience, the point where I turned everything around. But my story didn’t really happen like that.

Here’s what did happen. Through a miraculous act of divine mercy, I was hired by The Culture Project. I befriended these young adult missionaries who knew their worth. They knew what they were made for. And they weren’t social outcasts with neon signs flashing above their heads, they were . . . normal! Not just that, but fun and authentic and exactly the kind of people that anyone would want to be around.

All of a sudden, looking back on college, I had a totally new lens.

It pained me to see who I had become by my senior year, especially recalling how confidently I knew my worth and stuck to my morals back when I was just a little freshman. What changed? I realized it didn’t happen all at once. Instead, slowly, I gave in to the lies. I couldn’t even see it at the time, but I willingly accepted the culture’s blindfolding and brainwashing. I steadily lowered my standards for the ways I ought to be treated by men. I convinced myself that more fun is equivalent to more alcohol. I did just what I was supposed to do – I lived the full college experience.

Now, just weeks out of college, where had it left me? Already, I was no longer in touch with friends from Friday nights. Oddly enough, I was in touch with friends from those faith clubs I had become so self-conscious about.

And what about all those stories I so desperately desired? I found very quickly that they warranted no bragging rights with friends who truly cared about my good. Instead, these are the very stories I now find myself sifting through with regret, the very places I now seek healing.

In a sentence, it wasn’t worth it.

So why do I share all this, you ask? Well, for one, I know that I needed to hear these stories, but didn’t. Not only that, but I don’t want to sit around simply telling you what to do. I could try to pull out all the lessons and share all the relevant advice, but I don’t know you or your story. But I do know that stories speak, so my hope is that something in my story will resonate with you.

Whatever the impact my story did or didn’t have on you, I simply want to voice the ways that the culture lied to me, sucked me in, and left me out to dry, in hopes that just one less person follows in my footsteps. If you already have, know that you’re not alone, that you have a right to be upset at the deceptiveness of this culture, that you can be forgiven, and most importantly, that you, too, have a voice. Let it be heard.This culture will change one story at a time.