Returning to campus after Fake Break, I’m bracing myself for Hurricane Alpha, Beta, Omega. In my time at Elon University, my feelings on Greek Life have usually rested somewhere between loathing and tolerance.

Last Winter Term, Greek Life felt so dominant on campus I thought I’d never have a healthy social life again. Unless I rushed, that is.

You can imagine last year, when one of my best friends told me a few days before rushing that she decided to take part in the experience, I was none too pleased.

Why couldn’t she see what I saw in sororities? As much as I insulted and slammed Greek Life to her, it wouldn’t change her decision. Honestly, more than anything, I was fearful of losing my friend.

Recruitment went by, my friend received her bid (along with plenty of memorabilia) and to my surprise, we still saw each other. We still hung out on weekends, we still spent hours in the library and we still ate together.

And it was at those meals that I noticed my friend was – dare I admit it? – happier. She spoke of an organization that accepted her for her quirks and faults. Something began to change in her, something for which I couldn’t even take credit. She was finally happy at Elon.

At this point, it was safe to say I could appreciate what her sorority did for her, but I admit I zoned out when she talked about chapter, mixers and various formals. I had reached a happy medium with Greek Life that lasted until this past November.

That month, everything changed. My loving friend kidnapped me while I was sleeping, forced me into a sport coat and dragged me on a rope to Fonville Fountain outside of Alamance. The impossible had happened. I was at semi-formal.

In reality, she got down on one knee at La Cocina, asked me to be her date and promptly put a ring on it. I had joined the dark side.

I thought semi-formal would be a grand three hours that I would spend hanging around and chatting with inanimate objects while my friend abandoned me for her sisters. (More reason to disagree with Greek Life: It would bring up buried abandonment issues.)

What happened at formal can only be described as an out-of-body experience. The sisters and brothers were friendly to an outsider – something I wasn’t expecting. Surely some spirit had taken over my body because I had a good time at semi-formal, much less a Greek event.

It wasn’t until after semi-formal that my friend admitted to me just how unhappy she had been at Elon. Rushing was her last chance at finding happiness on campus and if she couldn’t, she would transfer. Even I, the best thing to ever happen to her (or so I presume), couldn’t have stopped her at that time.

Greek Life was her last attempt at finding purpose at Elon, and she found it. Twice Greek Life proved me wrong, and I will forever be indebted to it for keeping my friend at school. As much as I want to, I can’t hate something that helped someone when they were at their lowest emotionally.

So, yes, I am dreading returning to campus and being surrounded by Tory Burch, sister dates and matching T-shirts. But will I at least appreciate the effort many of the girls, both new and old, are making? Absolutely.