I aspired to be Casey Cartwright- something no one would have ever expected me to be. Completely confident, the president of a sorority, future law school student. Not to mention a really, really hot boyfriend. (Team Evan forever). I eventually became my own Casey Cartwright. I was president of my sorority. I wanted to go to law school until my senior year of college, and I've never been so thankful that I changed my mind. I have my own Ev

The end of my era came less than a year ago. Don't get me wrong; I loved college. I always knew that I would be a better grown up than a partying sorority. But with graduation comes moving on. Letting go of what the best four years had been.
A lot in learned in college. On your own, you learn how to do things for yourself. Who to trust. Who will be there at 2 a.m. How long you really need to give yourself to prepare for something. How to take risks.
Then, woops, you're back home again. You all these new skills and independences- but nothing to do with them.
You have sorority banners and pledge paddles. Badges. Silver, gold and blue paraphernalia. Penguin stuffed animals. Sixty sisters you know still at school, sixty alumnae scattered (in my case) across the state.
Greek did, in addition to lots of other things, a great job at showing the transition from undergrad to grad student or real person. That transition is important, but for most, it's hard to do it right away. For some, it took living there to see that it was time to move on. You have to hope that the work that you did while there will leave an impact. After you have that diploma, it's someone else's turn.
Because guess what: yes, college was a blast. But there's bigger and better things out there. There's grad school and careers. Washington DC and taking relationships to the next level. New relationships. (Rusty and Ashleigh? Ew.)
Greek showed a tasteful ending: it ended in its prime. It ended with the same cast, good acting and better writing than when it started.
It knew when to let go.
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