My First Semester at University.

Going to university is meant to be this big adventure. You’re meant to break out of the cliques you had in school and finally find the people who are more “you”.

I came from a small town with only a couple of schools. This meant that you couldn’t head out the house without seeing people you know, people who you’d seen everyday for your whole life. Other small town people, with small town ideals.

It was seen as a massive deal that I went to university, most people my age at home are pregnant and living with either their parents, or the boyfriend they had since they were fifteen.

I couldn’t wait to get out in the big, bad world and meet like-minded people. The people who were deep-thinkers, and big dreamers. The people my parents had always promised I would meet. Unfortunately, I never found those people. What I found was a bunch of people obsessed with getting wasted.

Life seemed pretty lonely after that. There isn’t a lot of fun in living with people who spend all the time talking about getting black-out drunk, or the next time they’re going to take an unknown substance they found on the floor, for the “banter”.

Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy a good time, but it gets old real fast. Eventually though, it got better. I met some nice people, people who aren’t like me, but that are still wonderful in their own way.

So while things didn’t turn out as I’d expected, and there was a quite lonely period at the beginning, I feel like I’m getting there. Maybe when people say that you’ll meet better people at university, they don’t mean communists or hippies, or people that are mirrors of ourselves. Maybe they just mean that we find the people that will help us figure out who it is “you” are meant to become.


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