Here it is, spring recruitment of your junior year. SO many changes have occurred since you were a wide-eyed 18 year old freshman, exploring campus and anxiously awaiting sorority recruitment. First you found your big, or more accurately, she stalked the shit out of you. Sure, you guys were meant to be. From pretending to like the same sports teams, to being bro-status with each other’s boyfriends, you couldn’t imagine anyone better. That is, until your little came along. From the moment you met her on bid night, you had to have her. You two were so alike, it was almost strange. You loved her pretty smile and ability to manipulate guys into doing absolutely anything for her. You quickly laid claim to her, even though dozens of other girls were pining to be both her big and your little. At every social event, anyone you spoke to (and even some that just looked) asked if you were a big/little pair within 90 seconds. By the end of the semester, your claim to fame was best big and little, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.
But a year has gone by, and it’s time to find a new addition to the family. This gives you more anxiety than that time your dress ripped open 5 minutes before formal last year. Each round that goes by that none of you fall instantly in girl-love with a cute, perky brunette, your heart sinks a bit. Plus, you’re not the one with complete control. Of course you trust your little’s judgment, but what if she doesn’t pick the right girl, or her standards aren’t as high? You imagine your lineage going to total shit and the next 18 new additions being hideous legacies that we’re forced to keep “behind the curtain” for decades to come. Or less dramatically, a blonde with a vapid personality that is against drinking on weeknights and sleeping over at frat houses. You shudder at the thought.
Once recruitment ends, you endlessly harass your little every hour on the hour about her prospects. You have, of course, not shown up to any “get-to-know-the-new-pledge class” things because you are a brand new member of club 21 and would rather get to know the bars and their subsequent hangovers. A few weeks go by of almost constant texts, calls and facebook messages about the potential new g-little. Needless to say, you’ve stalked every last one of them back to their high school prom, and they’re all gorgeous, so you leave the choice in what you are now convinced are the very capable hands of your protégé.
On the night before big-little reveal, your little finally pulls you aside to tell you who will be joining your famed lineage later that night, and although you don’t know the girl, you couldn’t be happier. Mostly because she’s pretty and you saw pictures of her double fisting shots of tequila in a bikini on her senior trip to Cancun. As the semester goes on, it becomes more and more clear that she’s just right. During big-little week, she licked frosting off your guy friends like a champ and played it cool when you stole all of her underwear. Now you have one more seat at the family dinner table, addition to the token fam picture at every single event, and most importantly, someone else who can hold your hair back or stop you from going home with your ex after a mixer. That is, if she’s even mildly coherent herself.
So ladies, take a deep breath and embrace grand-little seasons with open arms! If you’re awesome (like I am), it’ll work out, and you’ll have a perfect new addition to an already perfect family.