Whenever I look at this photo, I can't help but think of one thing: a phrase I had learned from a children's coloring book: one of these things is not like the other.

I tried my best to blur these faces out, other than mine, but it should still be clear which of the subjects photographed is not having quiteas good of a time as everyone else. (Their smiles even come through the blurs, mine is not present)

If someone asked me to think of the absolute worst party I have ever been to, without any hesitation, I would tell them about this night.

The kicker is, that I was actually really excited for this party. I had a really tough semester and I was really excited about going out with my friends and having a good time. My makeup was flawless, my hair looked great, and I felt like an adjective I didn't really use to describe myself often: pretty. Starting out the night, I walked out of the dorm with my friends, excited.

However, within minutes I felt like I didn't fit in. I was the one thing that was not like the other.

Anything I offered up for conversation fell flat, and I felt incredibly insignificant. I knew that there wasn't anyway I was going to get the night to turn around, and decided to try to call it quits before it got any worse.

Here's a Snapchat I sent to a friend of mine before getting to the party that night:

Before I even arrived to the party, I was sending out snapchats to other friends, asking for someone to come to my rescue. Of course, we were almost there, so I had to endure part of that night I didn't want to be a part of.

After arriving, I tried to avoid everyone I came with, and started to look at my genetics study slides so I'd at least have something worthwhile accomplished that night. When the photo of everyone was taken, I had intentionally attempted to avoid it. This included moving rooms frequently, and when I was dragged into the room by a friend, I pushed the guy taking the photo aside, and offered to take it myself. I thought I was being clear: I did not want to be in the photo. The reasoning behind this was simple:

I did not want a memory of this night.

But of course, I was dragged into the photo, and every single time I look at it, I feel as small as I did that night. It was a nice gesture, dragging me in the photo, but on that night, I felt like I was out of place- it was nice that I was there, but it didn't really matter that I was.

Whenever I see that photo, I don't see how happy my friends were. I don't see my makeup or how my dress looked. All I see is my knee bent- ready to sprint out of the photo as soon as I can. Every time I look at this photo, I feel sick to my stomach.

So, next time, I beg of you- don't take my photo if I don't want it. Just take me at my word, and take no pictures, please.