You’re Going to Be Okay: A Tiny Message for First and Second Years

ID: Sunset on Market St. Credit: Erin Reynolds

The leaves are turning red, the nights are getting longer, and the cinnamon levels in everyone’s lattes are getting increasingly large. With the arrival of autumn and the new academic year, and as the adrenaline rushes of Freshers week start to fade, I’m willing to bet that a lot of us are now beginning to reflect on previous years and start to make goals. In light of that, I dedicate this post to: the first years who may not have had an amazing time so far; and the second years, who might be finding themselves wondering if last year met expectations, if they achieved what they wanted to, if it was a good experience.

My first year, in a nutshell, was kind of awful.

I don’t want to sit here and claim that my experience was universal. There are people that genuinely had an amazing first year, and I honestly feel nothing but happiness for them (and admittedly nosiness since I often like to hear all my friends’ unhinged stories from 2022). I also don’t want to turn this blog post into a self-pitying story, because it truly is anything but. I simply just want to share the small lesson I learnt!

My dream had always been to go to university, and to leave my hometown as soon as possible. If you are familiar with any of my blog posts from last year, then you’ll know I didn’t exactly “fit in” the most when I was younger - in being queer, exhibiting neurodivergent behaviour, and just being a bit of a nerd anyway (cue the “not like other girls” vibes), finding my people in my hometown proved to be a challenge. I often fantasised about finding them at university instead. However, in this dreaming, I idolised it. Expected it. I expected that socialising would be naturally easy, that I would instantly meet my lifelong best friends on day one, that the transition to independence would be seamless, that I’d be able to gracefully manage the increased workload. That everything would be perfect.

To say that when I arrived during Fresher’s, I was overwhelmed by just how difficult everything was, would be a massive understatement. I truly believe that nothing could’ve ever prepared me for what I was about to confront. I ended up anxious, isolated, burnt out… but most of all disappointed that nothing had lived up to the incredibly unrealistic expectations I’d built up. My mistake, however, was taking that let-down from the initial few weeks and allowing it to define first year for me. In letting myself believe that first year was doomed, I had already sealed my fate. I was often intimidated by the thought of societies, attending events, doing more than the bare minimum, introducing myself, trying new things, taking risks… and I let that fear take over. Hence, my situation never changed and I never truly settled. I reached the end of first year, still feeling like I had just moved in. I then took a step back and realised that for nine months I had essentially been in survival mode, and that nothing had really been all that enjoyable for me. Having realised this, I then knew that I would not be able to handle it if the next three years promised to be clones of my first.

ID: Looking out on St Andrews covered by the haar. Credit: Erin Reynolds

While I understand my personal experience might not be applicable to everyone, I nevertheless wanted to share the simplified version of it in the hopes that it might be reassuring. If you have lived through a similar thing so far - you aren’t on your own. It’s incredibly easy to think that you are, when it seems as though everyone is living their best life both physically and online. It’s also incredibly easy to accidentally contribute to that; I, too, was guilty of lying by omission and posting oversaturated snapshots of my life online during first year, simply to hide the fact that I was struggling. But hopefully it is comforting to know that you are not alone (as overused as that phrase is).

I also have another possibly reassuring thought to share: if you are a first year, and your experience is making you anxious about the following years to come… I felt the exact same. Not only was my first year challenging, but so was the summer that followed. It was both tainted with the bad aftertaste that first year left, and overshadowed by the looming threat of my oncoming second year. It sounds dramatic, and it certainly felt dramatic at the time - but in hindsight, I am grateful for that feeling because it motivated me to make some equally dramatic changes in my life.

In making those changes in my second year, I forced myself to go outside my comfort zone. Dragged myself to social events even if I knew nobody there. Said yes to activities even if they made me nervous. Tried to have the courage to put myself forward for positions I never would’ve considered before. These are tips that I’m sure you’ve heard time and time again. It is the go-to advice that almost everyone gives to incoming university students, and as daunting as they sound, I’m sorry to say that everyone really was right all along. Admittedly, making these decisions to put myself out there took quite a push, and were absolutely terrifying at first, but it did become so much easier over time, and the results were more than worth it. For example, I was finally able to experience what swimming in the North Sea was like (a good few months after missing my first May Dip, but hey, better late than never!). I was able to make friends in circles I had never been exposed to, simply by attending events (people truly are friendlier than what social anxiety tries to convince you of). I was able to have the opportunity to write about all my rambling ideas, here on the Gay Saint, just through deciding I’d give it a shot. Even now, in my third year, I have decided to take up archery for the first time in my life and was pleasantly surprised by just how many people did the same in their third year. It truly is never too late, and there is no such thing as “missing your window” when it comes to things you want to do.

In between all the big changes, I tried to put effort into enjoying the smaller moments, too. To appreciate the “intermissions”, so to speak, between the big memorable turning points. Romanticising otherwise boring commutes by listening to music, taking photos of the Kinnessburn ducks and coastal sunsets, stargazing, chasing the Northern Lights, trying new outfits and make-up, collecting trinkets and memorabilia for decorating my room, experimenting with new recipes… the list goes on. Of course, I will once again preach journalling and practising gratitude - it truly helped immensely when life began to get hectic and I’d need something to ground me and slow me down.

A small side note: I sympathise with the fact that this advice is admittedly very overdone and also not completely applicable to everyone who reads it. It is obviously so much easier to say “choose to be brave, choose to be social” than it is to simply do it. I also feel incredibly grateful that, once I was able to take it on board, I was lucky enough to have it be helpful. That said, I also want to emphasise that this advice isn’t necessarily a cure. It is just a collection of tips I found that helped me to make second year better than first year in any way that I could :)

As I now begin my third year at St Andrews, I can quite confidently say that first year is never the be-all-and-end-all of university. If your first year didn’t meet expectations, that doesn’t necessarily mean your entire experience is doomed to be this great big disappointment. You’re going to be okay, and it is never too late to change things or try something new.

Freya (she/they) <3