The “University Experience™” is as elusive as it is vague. From a young age, we are bombarded with stories from siblings, friends, parents, and other adults about their years in university or college. These stories, sometimes exaggerated, can create an unrealistic expectation of what university will be like, and the media’s portrayal of university rarely works to pain a realistic portrayal of life in college or university. So we receive our acceptances, and begin first year in September, anxious to meet these incredibly high expectations of how life should look like, only to possibly be let down by reality.
For my last two years of high school, I was dying to go to university. I spent hours creating hypothetical friends in my head and thinking of all the crazy adventures we would go on, and the sweet freedom I would finally taste. My first year didn’t really go like that. I arrived at York on my first day, shaking because I was so terrified of being unable to keep up with note taking, and excited to finally make some friends who lived relatively close. I sat with some girls who happened to be in one of my tutorials, and I thought that this was it. I thought I had made it and this was the magical moment that would spark a lifetime friendship and I had finally made my university friends; I, the awkward homeschooler who still missed a lot of social cues, had made friends.
Plot twist: after those first few days, I hardly spoke to them again. They went on to become close friends, but I drifted away and found my own place in the program. I still see them frequently, and we’ve had many tutorials together because our program is so small, but we’re “friendly” than actual friends.
This was my life for most of my first year. I would think I had made some deep, profound connection with people in my classes, and then we would simply naturally drift apart. It was hard, painful, and terrifying. I had this set idea of what the “University Experience™” was supposed to be, and I was horrified at my failure to meet the ideal. It was damaging my self-esteem and my ability to socialize with others because I eventually became too paralyzed by anxiety and self-consciousness to interact normally with others. I would just say one or two lines before shuffling away, believing all these other people were meeting the ideal and I simply couldn’t.
Guess what? As I wound up learning the hard way through some very healthy but painful conversations, there is no standard experience we need to go through during university! How we spend our years in post-secondary education is entirely up to us, and only we can decide at the end if our experience was a success or not. Things may seem painful and confusing right now, but I promise that everyone who seems to have the “University Experience™” figured out, is living out a different and unique experience from everyone else.
Spoiler alert: While first year me was often lonely and confused, second year me is surrounded by some wonderful people I’ve met and can’t imagine making it this far without. The awkward, clueless homeschooler made friends. Trust me, you can do this. You’re doing fine.
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