If you told me seven months ago that I wouldn’t be talking to the majority of the people I met during orientation, I wouldn’t have believed you. I know we’ve all seen the hundreds of TikToks where people warn others that those friendships won’t last. But I really thought it might have been different for me. I wanted to be the exception.
In the summer, I tried to make an effort to get to know people and make some friends. I would go on the university’s Class of 2029 pages, trying to find people in my program or with similar interests.
It took me hours to build up my confidence and send a simple message. I did that with someone whom I’d now consider one of my best friends at school. The funny thing is, we texted for a few days over the summer, and then she ghosted me.
Contrary to many others, I didn’t make an effort during orientation to get the most out of what the school had to offer.
Orientation was overwhelming. Everything at once. New city. New people. New rules. I barely had time to breathe because just as I said goodbye to my parents, I had to go to a floor meeting with almost forty strangers I’d live with for the next eight months.
Then, I was thrown into Kerr Hall Quad and expected to make friends that night. Toronto Metropolitan University is mostly a commuter school. Most of my old friends were commuting, and I knew no one in residence.
I’ve met a lot of people this year, during O-Week and in my tiny program. I talked to them a few times, but then we drifted apart. For a while, I thought I was failing.
Then I realized: early friendships aren’t always forever. They exist because of timing, proximity, and circumstance. Everyone is nervous; everyone just wants someone to hold onto. And that’s okay. That’s necessary. Those connections get you through the hardest part: the start.
Slowly, things settle. You find your routine and your favourite campus spots, and yourself.
Friendships shift, too. You start spending time with people who actually get you. Not just the ones who happened to live down the hall or sit next to you on day one.
Drifting apart doesn’t mean failure. It doesn’t mean you’re doing university wrong. It means growth — real growth.
Sometimes, your closest friends show up late. Whether that’s the second semester or even later, that’s normal.
So if your freshman friend group isn’t the same as it was in September, you’re not alone. You’re not behind. You’re finding your people. For real, this time.
And who knows, maybe that person who ghosted you over the summer might end up sending you a message to grab breakfast on your second day. When that happens, it’s important you say yes.