During my freshman year of college, I found myself housed on an all-girls floor in a small dorm box at the University of Colorado in Boulder, surrounded by a bevy of out-of-state communication majors, the preferred uniform being brightly hued polo shirts with collars sticking straight up in the air, offset nicely by artificially tanned skin and flat-ironed hair.

These girls, lovely with their Tiffany’s jewelry and chipper hellos, seemingly had yet to outgrow the so-called awkward phase we were all supposed to have experienced and conquered by the time we exited 10th grade or so, mentally, anyway. To them, everything was awkward.

“I had lunch with this guy, but we didn’t have much to talk about, and it was so awkward.”

“I was in the bathroom brushing my teeth, and that girl from next door just started talking to me, about breaking up with her boyfriend or something. I’ve never even said a word to her. Awk-ward!”

During my first year at Columbia, I lived in the 2 E. 8th St. Building. Though the penchant for loud polo shirts was minimal, the tendency to label affairs as “awkward” wasn’t.

“I went to the vending machine on the fifth floor, and there were a bunch of kids breakdancing in there, and I felt really awkward getting my Sprite.”

“My roommate’s really awkward; he just shuts himself in his room and doesn’t talk to anyone.”

“Come over here, don’t be awkward.”

Sigh.

It’s understandable, and inevitable, that some situations in life will be uncomfortable. But are they truly awkward? Is sitting in silence for a few minutes with someone you don’t know well worthy of the dreaded “awkward” stamp? Or is vehemently declaring an instance, moments after an interaction occurs, “Awkward!” necessary? Likely the situation wasn’t awkward; you merely made it so. Now who’s socially inept?

With more than 500 Facebook groups dedicated to everyone’s ostensibly favorite type of circumstance, it appears that young adults these days have grasped onto the phenomenon of awkward and refuse to let go. But “awkward” has become a buzzword of sorts-evidently applicable to every conceivable situation. First date? Awkward. Party? Awkward. Running to class? Awkward. Breathing? Likely awkward.

I hereby propose a firm stance against “awkward” and challenge you, dear reader, to reach deep into your college vernacular and search for something else, anything else, to describe your allegedly awkward run-ins. First date? Uncomfortable. Party? Perplexing, and then they ran out of beer. Running to class? Cumbersome. Breathing? Necessary, and that is that. It’s only awkward if you make it awkward-so why bother?