Why I Have Decided to Forgive Frat Boys

There is a movement sweeping the world via Internet. The Forgiveness Project recounts dozens of stories from every walk of life, stretching across countries and cultures, all telling the same story: forgiveness. There are stories told by parents, by children, by victims and by criminals. Every story is unique, and every tale brought goosebumps and a couple teeny tiny  tears.

It’s absolutely fabulous, I suggest checking it out.

In a related, but completely unfabulous topic, I have a confession to make.

I have been harboring a lot of pent-up anger/frustration/ill-will towards the opposite sex lately.

And by “anger/frustration/ill-will,” I mean “wanting to leave every single one of them on a deserted island and let them kill each other off.”

…and by “lately,” I mean “the past year and a half.”
…and by “opposite sex,” I mean “boat shoe-wearing, Republican-voting, crappy beer-drinking fraternity men.”

This is how I almost ended up a bitter cat lady:

Fraternity men conduct themselves in a way that is unique to their particular brand of males. They are the rulers of the kingdom that is a university social life. Most of them are self-confident to the point of megalomania.

My university is on the smaller side (17,000 students), and an even smaller Greek life (about 1700 of us). With those odds, it’s easy to know practically everybody. I include myself in this hyperbole. I have lots of friends. This isn’t meant to be boastful, just factual. When you devote as much time/energy/effort to Greek life as I have over the past three years, you end up making it your world. I have been involved in everything, friends with everyone.

When you are “Miss Sorority Girl,” you tend to date a “Mr. Fraternity Man” or two.

This is where my problem begins. When I mistook a great group of friends for a miniscule dating pool. Really, with a selection of roughly 800 guys, things take a turn towards Hapsburg. You can only date one or two men before you end up talking to someone’s little/big, or someone’s ex. Things get weird.

I’ll spare you juicy details of my dating life. Long story short, everyone has alliances, everyone chooses sides, and, though all is fair in love and war, there always always always needs to be a “bad guy” in both. It makes it more simple for onlookers to understand what is going on if they can pinpoint who they want to win.

After a particularly horrible break-up last fall, I decided to swear off all frat boys.

Okay, so it was a combination of the break-up and a few attempted rebounds.

The fact of the matter is, I was done. I saw these frat boys, once some of my best friends, and all I saw was the hurt that a select few had caused. I transformed into a mean, bitter girl.

Not that I am letting them off the hook. I was going through a very difficult part of my life, and my “friends,” these guys that I had shared so much with, wrote me off and left me to figure it out on my own. My phone stayed silent; boys that I had comforted through their own break-ups, supported through their intramural games, brought medicine to when they were sick, didn’t reciprocate.

And so, I became bitter and mean and rude. I swore them off, never to date another fraternity man again.

Until this handsome boy came along. This is David, and he is everything a fraternity man should be. He is the most positive, kind, generous person I know, and he has made me all of these things too. Because of him, I have decided to forgive all the frat boys that have done me wrong. Because it really doesn’t matter anymore.

We all need to kiss a few frogs on our way to the prince at the end of the story. And we definitely need to forgive said frogs, if only to make ourselves feel better.

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