First year of uni will from now on be a memory, after living in it for about 8 months. As cliché as it is, I’ve grown a lot. I’ve been pushed out of my comfort zone and I’ve got experience I wouldn’t want to be without. It’s not just about living on your own, doing your own washing and making your own food. It’s about growing as a person, talking to people you never thought you’d get along with and living for a bit.
My year started off by hanging out and going out with my flat. We saw each other every day, either in the kitchen for predrinks as we got drunk or in Laura’s bed with pyjamas and snacks. It feels like yesterday. The months flew by, assignments were handed in, and suddenly I had a new group of friends. Friends I’d go to Camden with, watch Orphan Black with and chill out at the bench with. These friends are a group of quite different individuals, but they are a joy to be around. They encourage kindness and creativity, and make me a better person somehow.
I am forever grateful for this experience. Uni has been a weird combination of tears and joy, and a lot of stress.
But I couldn’t have asked for a better 1st year.