What does it mean to go to Ole Miss? Well, I don’t know what it means to every Rebel, but I know what it means to me.
I’m from Columbus, Ohio — a little town that felt like a bubble. My house is about 12 minutes from The Ohio State University. I grew up a Buckeye. My parents grew up Buckeyes. My grandparents grew up Buckeyes. You get the idea. The Leider family is deeply rooted in Ohio State tradition.
So, growing up as a Big Ten girl, it was a pretty big adjustment to end up at an SEC school — and not just any SEC school, but Ole Miss.
Every time someone asked where I was from or where I was going to school, I got the exact same reaction: “What? How in the hell did you end up at Ole Miss?”
And every single time, I gave the same answer: “I wanted to get away.”
And I really did.
Don’t get me wrong — I love Columbus, and I’ll always love Ohio State. I knew it would always be there waiting for me when I came home.
The pull to just get away
But I couldn’t stop wondering what else was out there. What if there was somewhere that challenged me? Somewhere completely different from everything I’d ever known?
I didn’t want to be close enough to drive home whenever I felt like it. I needed my journey home to be inconvenient.
Ole Miss definitely checked that box.
An hour-and-a-half drive to the Memphis airport. No direct flights home. And if I drove? Nine and a half hours. Yes, nine and a half.
As inconvenient as that sounds, it’s exactly what I needed.
It forced me to solve my own problems, make my own decisions, and become truly independent.
When I packed up and moved south, I wasn’t bringing a group of hometown friends with me. I was starting over. It was me against the world — or at least it felt like me against Ole Miss.
Culture shock, by the numbers
And Ole Miss was different in almost every way from the university I had always known.
Ohio State: Huge. Ole Miss: Smaller.
Ohio State: Mostly Northerners. Ole Miss: Full of Southerners.
As expected, those cultures are different. I grew up around blunt, down-to-earth, Skyline-loving people. The Southerners I met were exactly what I’d imagined in some ways — kind, welcoming, polished, and proud of where they came from.
At first, I wasn’t sure I’d ever find friendships that compared to the ones I had back home. I couldn’t have been more wrong.
The people I’ve met at Ole Miss come from everywhere — Tennessee, Missouri, Kentucky, Indiana, Alabama, California, Arizona, Mississippi, and so many more places.
Finding home in unexpected places
The sorority I joined had women from 49 states. Some are a lot like me. Others couldn’t be more different.
And that’s become one of my favorite parts of Ole Miss.
Every conversation introduces you to a different hometown, a different perspective, a different way of seeing the world. You don’t just earn a degree here — you learn from people whose lives look nothing like your own.
To me, that’s what Ole Miss means.
It means branching out. It means exploring. It means stepping outside the life you’ve always known and allowing yourself to evolve.
Sometimes the best thing you can do is take a chance on the unknown.
For me, that chance was Ole Miss.
Key takeaways
- Distance was the point, not the drawback — she chose a school nine and a half hours from home with no direct flights, on purpose, to force real independence.
- Culture shock turned into the biggest gift — a blunt, deeply rooted Ohio State family raised a daughter who found unexpected warmth and connection in Southern hospitality.
- Hometown diversity defined the experience — a sorority spanning 49 states turned every conversation into a window onto a different life, which she now calls her favorite part of Ole Miss.
