The red dress I had planned on wearing to my boyfriend’s winter formal, coincidentally, happened to be the same shade of red as the back of my throat. That is, as I was about to discover, the portion of it that wasn’t covered in white stripes of bacteria (lovely, I know).
Typically, the feeling that comes with discovering you have an illness that is serious and requires immediate medical attention is dread. But honestly, I was relieved. I wriggled out of my suffocating dress and slipped back into the comforts of my bed, basking in my slick escape. I was sick, yes, but not in the way of a common cold or headache. I had a fully diagnosable infection, and one that everybody knew that they did not want to catch. It was absolutely necessary for me to stay home. Thank God.
At UVA, the going-out culture directly mirrors the hustle culture. It is unyielding, battering, and implacable, regardless of how tired we are, or how bad we may feel.
But, when I had made it clear the day before that I was feeling extremely fatigued and that my throat hurt, nobody batted an eye. When I had announced that I had gotten a fever overnight, it was still assumed that I would still be in attendance (it was my boyfriend’s formal, after all). When I was so weak, I could barely pull myself up from bed to do my makeup, whether or not I was coming to the formal was still a toss-up question, because at UVA, the going-out culture directly mirrors the hustle culture. It is unyielding, battering, and implacable, regardless of how tired we are, or how bad we may feel.
I lean towards introversion. I am comfortable being by myself and with staying in. Yet, I still get antsy, unable to shake the feeling that I should be—am obligated to be—somewhere I am not, even if I’m sick. As a UVA student, it feels rather strange to be idle—perhaps the consequence of attending such an academically rigorous institution. I’ve spoken to several others who, like myself, feel guilty for even missing class because of illness. After all, everyone around us is so impressive. Everywhere you turn here, you’ll meet someone who is the president of three clubs at once, overloading course credits, and likely neglecting their own self-care needs to do so.
UVA also has a large Greek population—approximately 30% of over 17,000 undergraduates. Fraternities in particular tend to reside in large, Colonial Revival mansions, many of which were acquired before UVA even became desegregated. With a grand space to host parties, the social legitimacy of these historical fraternal institutions naturally came with time. Greek life tells us that they offer an “essential” part of the college experience, one that is just a ten-minute walk away from central grounds. Even today, they continue to have a strong foothold in the student body, engendering the mentality that having fun is synonymous with “going out.” When everything is so highly externalized, sociality demands you to leave your own space to achieve fun.
Our FOMO, our social pressure, is self-imposed...We pressure ourselves to go out because we (incorrectly) think that everyone else is going out, and in turn, others notice us going out and pressure themselves to do the same.
Hustle conditions us to constantly seek constant academic productivity and self-maximization, fostering an inherent desire to do the same in our social lives. We simply cannot relax within our own spaces, with or without others. On a Friday night, we have to be doing something. We have to go out.
However, I think the anxious discomfort that many students face runs deeper than the fear of missing out, or FOMO. Our FOMO, our social pressure, is self-imposed. Hustle culture insidiously infiltrates every crevice of our minds, manifesting not only academically but socially. When UVA student culture conforms to the norm of “work hard, play harder,” we are left feeling that if—or when—we don’t go out, we are being judged as social pariahs. This is a feedback loop that traps us—one that I often feel stuck in, too. We pressure ourselves to go out because we (incorrectly) think that everyone else is going out, and in turn, others notice us going out and pressure themselves to do the same.
Going out is fun when you are with people you like and trust—and when you’re not sick with a hundred-degree fever—but it is not the only option for having fun. If the idea of exploring other ways to spend a Friday night makes you a little bit uncomfortable, maybe it is time to start looking into them. The best way to lessen anxiety is to confront it. There is nothing wrong with spending a night in your own company, or even in the comfort of your own space with close friends. Our minds are constantly playing tricks on us. When we think we are being judged for not going out, it is important to remember that the culture we have been molded into keeps us preoccupied with judging ourselves, not others.
You may only be an undergraduate once, but your youth extends far beyond our four brief years in college. Trust me, there will be many, many, many more opportunities to go out.
Of course, I’m not saying to NOT go out. Be safe and live your life the way you see best fit. However, I want you to know that going out is not your only option. You may only be an undergraduate once, but your youth extends far beyond our four brief years in college. Trust me, there will be many, many, many more opportunities to go out.
Yes, you have the right to chase pleasure now, but that means pleasure in all forms, such as staying in when your body is loudly demanding rest. After some much-needed Nyquil, rest, and a round of amoxicillin, I was back to attending winter formals the next week. My social life did not end with my decision to rest and recharge; it was so much better to go out when I was in the mood to, and feeling my best.
