From the deactivated Facebook accounts to the neon Go Greek T-shirts, it has rapidly become clear that sorority recruitment season is approaching. Throughout this week, I’ve memorized the inner-workings of the system that confused, frustrated and excited me during this time last year. I’ve learned lists of high-pitched, long-winded chants, clapping through every rhyme with a welcoming smile plastered on my face, pushed past store hangers searching for a checklist of outfits and hesitantly weaved my way through “bump” transitions (anyone who doesn’t know what those are, you’re lucky). I’ve deleted or disguised my identity on nearly all forms of social media. If you’re not in a sorority, I bet I can guess the thoughts playing out behind your wide, sympathetic eyes and scrunched forehead -- Why are you doing all of this?

The reasoning, of course, lies in the crowds of women that will be stumbling toward my university’s student union in heels this upcoming weekend. Behind every strenuous practice is the genuine hope that these women will be our sorority’s future leaders and legacy when this organization becomes a bullet point on my pledge class’s future big girl job applications. If these women are anything like I was during recruitment, they’ll be checking sorority chapters’ Instagram profiles, Facebook pages and yes, GreekRank, to see which one looks the best or has the most members. What I wish I could emphasize to these girls, and any other potential new members going through recruitment, is that sometimes the chapter you didn’t automatically follow on social media is actually the one that will follow you throughout your college years and your life.

I know firsthand. This time last year on bid day, the letters of the chapter I never pictured myself in were emblazoned across my chest in gold glitter. My fingers were posed in the one sorority sign into which I never imagined my hands contorting. I had accepted a bid from the newest — and therefore smallest, and yes, according to GreekRank, bottom tier— sorority on campus, but the smile stretched across my face wasn’t fake, and the glinting in my eyes had nothing to do with disappointed tears. I quickly realized that this smaller sorority needed me in a way that the others just didn’t. Finding my place among girls who already knew each other and navigating their pre-established routine felt effortless and inviting. Instead of just relying on a sorority to help me grow, my leadership has been actively challenged as I help my chapter to grow.

Of course, I am in no way claiming that the biggest and most popular sorority won’t be the best for certain women. If that sorority has sisters, aims and philanthropies that inspire you, I sincerely hope that they’ll be the ones teaching you to #throwwhatyouknow come bid day. In the mean time, don’t let social media buzz or university stereotypes lead you to underestimate a sorority chapter. In 10 years, it’s the people from a sorority that will grace the pages of your yellowed scrapbooks, not screenshots of Instagram followers or GreekRank ratings.