In college, I shared a room with Jordan, someone I had admired from afar during our first year. Jordan was the kind of person who seemed to have everything together—charming, always surrounded by friends, and effortlessly excelling in classes. When I found out we’d be roommates sophomore year, I was excited. I thought that living with Jordan would be the perfect setup: we’d become close friends, and maybe some of that charisma would rub off on me.

However, it didn't take long for the cracks in that admiration to show. The first issue was Jordan's complete disregard for personal space. Our room was small, but Jordan’s presence made it feel even smaller. Clothes were strewn everywhere, and somehow, my side of the room was constantly encroached upon by their stuff. My desk became a dumping ground for their textbooks and half-finished projects. It was as if the concept of personal boundaries didn’t exist for Jordan, which drove me crazy.

Then there was Jordan's social life. Initially, I thought it would be fun to be in the orbit of someone so popular. But Jordan’s friends were in and out of our room at all hours of the day and night. There was never a moment of peace. I’d try to study, but there’d be laughter, loud conversations, and music blasting from Jordan's side of the room. I often found myself escaping to the library just to get some quiet.

What really grated on me, though, was Jordan's complete lack of consideration. Despite the constant noise and mess, Jordan never seemed to think it was a problem. When I finally mustered up the courage to say something, Jordan brushed it off with a laugh and a half-hearted promise to be more mindful. Nothing changed. It was like talking to a brick wall.

Jordan also had a habit of borrowing my things without asking. At first, it was just small stuff—pens, notebooks, a charger. But soon, my clothes, my headphones, even my bike were fair game. I’d find my favorite sweater balled up in a corner of the room, or my bike parked at a different rack across campus. When I confronted Jordan about it, the response was always the same: “Oh, I didn’t think you’d mind.” But I did mind. A lot.

The final straw came during finals week. I was stressed out, trying to cram for a particularly difficult exam, and just needed some peace and quiet. Jordan, on the other hand, was in full party mode, celebrating the end of the semester a little too early. I asked, begged, for some quiet time, but Jordan just smirked and said, “Relax, you’re going to do fine.”

At that moment, I realized that the person I had admired from afar wasn’t someone I actually liked, much less someone I wanted to live with. Jordan was self-absorbed, inconsiderate, and completely oblivious to how their actions affected others. What I once saw as confidence now seemed more like arrogance. I couldn't wait for the semester to end and to move out.

In the end, living with Jordan taught me a lot—not just about them, but about myself. I learned the importance of setting boundaries, of speaking up for my own needs, and of recognizing that someone who seems perfect from a distance might not be so great up close.