So, I’m not here to tell you what to do, no one really likes that. I’m just here to hand you a few things I’ve learned the hard way, in my first year. Call them lessons, bruises, or the quiet wisdom that comes from nights when sleep refused to come.
Things I wish someone had whispered to me when I was still figuring out who I was supposed to be: torn between ambition, heartbreak, guilt, and the fear of being left behind.
If there’s something you want to learn, just start.
Don’t romanticise the “perfect timing.” Don’t wait for someone to declare you’re ready. You are. You have time, you just don’t realise how much of it you’re wasting waiting for permission that will never come. You don’t need a plan; you need courage. Start ugly. Start unsure. Just start. Because one day, you’ll look back and realise the biggest delay wasn’t the world, it was you doubting yourself.
College will test you in ways no syllabus ever mentions.
There will be toxicity and that’s just the truth. You’ll see groups that look perfect on the surface but rot underneath. You’ll meet people who praise you to your face and roll their eyes the second you walk away. It’s messy, it’s unfair, but it’s also real. And you can’t avoid it, not in college, not in life. You’ll meet people who drain you, situations that shake you, moments that make you question your worth. But by the time you reach your third year, you’ll know better. Not perfectly, but enough. You’ll stop expecting everyone to be kind. You’ll stop apologising for having boundaries. You’ll start protecting your peace, and you’ll realise that’s what truly matters.
Stop chasing validation; it’s a bottomless pit.
There will be toxicity I wish I could make you feel how freeing it is to not care who approves. People will twist your kindness, guilt-trip your silence, weaponise your care. Learn to say no. Learn to walk away without turning back. If someone makes you question your worth, that’s not your person. Remember, if you can’t like everyone, you can’t expect everyone to like you either. Protect your peace, even if it means walking alone for a while.
You don’t have infinite energy; stop acting like you do.
You can’t keep pouring into cups that never refill yours. If someone ignores you, don’t chase. If they misunderstand you, stop over-explaining. Reciprocity is love. Anything else is exhaustion disguised as loyalty. Give people the same energy they give you, not out of ego, but out of self-respect. You deserve balance. You deserve calm.
Leave any space that makes you feel small.
Don’t stay where you have to shrink just to be tolerated. If you constantly feel like your words dissolve in air, that’s your cue. Walk away. Find people who listen, who make space for you without asking you to prove your worth. You’re not someone’s filler, not a side character in their story. You’re the whole book, stop letting anyone convince you otherwise.
When it comes to ambition, stop overthinking and start experimenting.
If an idea to earn, to create, to build something sparks inside you, act on it. Don’t wait for external approval, not even from professors or friends. You’ll learn more from trying and failing than from endless “planning.” The world doesn’t reward perfection; it rewards courage, adaptability, and authenticity. And yes, people will steal ideas. People will copy your shine. But they can’t steal your mind, they can’t recreate your voice.
Decide what’s yours to hold; and what isn’t.
You don’t have to carry everything. Some burdens aren’t yours, some pain belongs to people who never learned how to process their own. Let it go. The good things in life are lighter anyway: laughter, sunsets, the warmth of people who stay. One toxic bond can outweigh a thousand tiny joys. Choose wisely what your life has room for. You owe yourself that discernment.
And then there’s the terrifying part, figuring out who to be and when.
You’ll find yourself constantly performing, in class, in interviews, online. Everyone’s busy curating perfection. It’s exhausting. I know it’s terrifying because now it’s up to you who you become, but here’s the good news: now, it’s up to you who you become. No one’s coming to save you, but no one’s stopping you either.
You will lose perspective, and that’s okay.
Some days everything will feel pointless. You’ll scroll endlessly, feel behind, feel small. The pressure to look “put-together”, to live like your life’s a highlight reel, it’ll choke you.
But listen, perfection isn’t real. Growth isn’t glamorous. You’ll make mistakes, countless ones. In your life, you will inevitably misspeak, trust the wrong people, under-react, overreact, hurt the people who didn’t deserve it, overthink, not think at all, self sabotage, create a reality where only your experience exists, ruin perfectly good moments for yourself and others, deny any wrongdoing, not take the steps to make it right, feel very guilty, let the guilt eat at you, hit rock bottom, finally address the pain you caused, try to do better next time, rinse, repeat. And I’m not gonna lie, these mistakes will cause you to lose things. I’m trying to tell you that losing things doesn’t just mean losing. A lot of the time, when we lose things, we gain things too. We gain space, for healing, for better beginnings.
Not every goodbye is tragic.
Some of them are simply you choosing yourself, your sanity, your joy, your rest. It’ll sting, yes. But one day you’ll realize that peace always costs something. And it’s always worth it.
Just be yourself, there is no one better.
Taylor Swift
And if you’re wondering whether I’ve figured it all out, or how I could ever tell anyone how to live their life, I haven’t. I can’t. I won’t. Because, the scary truth is, we’re all on our own now. But the cool news is we’re all on our own now.
We’re all guided by something raw and unexplainable, our instincts, our fears, our hopes, the bruises we carry, and the dreams that refuse to die. And yes, you’ll mess up. So will I. You’ll choose wrong, trust wrong, fall apart, and start over. Hard things will happen, they always do. But you’ll recover. You’ll rebuild. You’ll grow tougher, softer, wiser, all at once.
And through it all, you’ll keep breathing.
Because, no matter how hard life gets, as long as we’re still breathing, we get another chance to begin again.
So, take a deep breath in, fill your lungs with the promise of a new beginning. Acknowledge how far you’ve come, the lessons you’ve learned, and the strength you’ve cultivated.
Then, slowly breathe out, releasing the doubts, fears, and regrets still clinging to you. Let go of what no longer serves you, make space for growth, resilience, and hope. With each deliberate inhale and exhale, remind yourself: this life, this moment, is a gift and you still have time to begin again.
If this reached you in a way words rarely do, stay close, there’s more heart, more honesty, and more stories waiting with me at Her Campus at MUJ.