Confessions of a Black Sheep Socialite

As I sat in the Bogotá airport waiting to fly to Cartagena, I wondered what had gone so wrong. Here I was, on the infamous Colombia trip getting ready to start at the GSB. I should have been happy beyond my wildest dreams, getting to know new classmates in an exotic country. Instead, I was calling home to my boyfriend, on the verge of tears. “I hope I haven’t made a big mistake. Two more years of this?” I whispered over the bad connection. It was only after coming back and reflecting before the start of school that I could understand my emotions.

First, a little background on me. I love a lot of things in life: adventuring outdoors, traveling, sampling delicious food, meeting people and learning what makes them tick over a glass of wine, and taking care of my body and mind through exercise and meditation. Before this starts to sound too much like a dating profile, let me tell you what I love less: clubs where you have to scream to be heard, taking shots, staying up late and waking up early, having surface conversations that start and end with, “Where are you from? What did you do before business school?” In other words, everything Colombia was.

Now I don’t mean to suggest that Colombia wasn’t a fantastic experience for many, nor that I had a terrible time — I made some very close friends. I have great respect for those who planned and executed a trip of that scale. However, I came to understand that I went to Colombia for the wrong reasons. While I was warned that Colombia might not be up my alley socially, I still went because of FOMO. I worried that I would have no friends and nothing to talk about at school unless I went. I went out of fear and cowardice.

This experience shaped the rest of my GSB experience. After returning, I vowed to ask myself “why” every time I committed to a social event. This proved difficult. I remember the Back to School party as one of the first tests of my resolve. Deciding I’d rather drink wine and cook dinner with friends than go to the party was the easy part. The hard part was explaining, time and time again, why I wasn’t going to the Back to School party. Why? Because I knew myself and I’d rather do something different.

Oh. Conversation killer.

Now that I’ve finished MBA1 year, and I’m a lot more comfortable with my decisions, I can see why it’s difficult not to just follow the herd at the GSB. In the first few weeks, since everyone is a stranger, an easy question to make conversation is, “Are you going to X?” Let’s be real: people don’t really care if you are going to the Old Pro or to the Boat Party. Instead, they want something to talk about, and they want to fit in — and chances are that you do too. As a result, being upfront about how you feel can be much more difficult than going with the flow. Unfortunately, when no one is honest, those who feel differently are even less likely to speak out. This cycle is self-perpetuating.

I can’t count the number of conversations I had where someone “came out of the closet” about not liking big organized social events once I was honest. As I started organizing alternative events, like wine and cheese tastings, dinner potlucks, a Thanksgiving trip to Anderson Valley, and even night kayaking the night of Vegas Foam, I realized just how many people were searching for a different kind of social experience. I like to think that instead of being ashamed or silent, we found a community together.

I’ll end with one plea to MBA1s and MBA2s alike: Next time someone asks if you are going to a social event, if you are truly stoked to go, let them know. But if you feel you are going for the wrong reason, instead of saying that you’re “busy” or “maybe” or straight up lying, tell them how you feel. You’ll be doing your fellow classmates a whole lot of good, and you might even be surprised to find a few kindred souls.

Related posts:

My 4 year old son is on the autism spectrum. He was diagnosed on the severe end of the spectrum. He is non-verbal, and has a myriad of sensory nuances which has him behave sometimes in strange and…

Was it a dream? Could he be real? His name was Dale & he was, by all accounts, my perfect partner. In the “Looks Department” he was 5' 10" or so, gorgeous dark hair and hazel eyes. In the…

Everything Old Is New Again. Below please find hand-picked world-class artisan delights you probably avoided for reasons too scary to even think about..