Trudging through Semester One: An Open Letter to First Years Finding Their Feet.

Dear First Years, 

I know you are excited. I know you are scared. I know you are trying on your different personalities in attempts to “fit in.” I know those masks you carry around with you are less for hiding your anxiety from so many strangers and more for convincing yourself that college will be some of the best years of your life. I know, I have been there.  

In truth, some of you will get along just fine. You’ll click with classmates and find your besties within the hours of orientation or moving into your accommodation, and that’s fantastic! For some of you, it will not be so simple; this letter is for you.  

I can admit that my first year came with several ups and downs. I missed my days spent in school, but also learned so much about navigating University life. It was challenging in the beginning, and during those moments a letter like this one would’ve made my experience of first year feel a little more normal, so I could’ve known for sure that I was not alone.  

It can be isolating, especially in those first few weeks. I won’t try to hide the fact that I really struggled with adjusting to time spent alone. I often found myself hiding in my small bedroom in my digs accommodation in the evening with little to do and nowhere to go because it was too scary do the twenty-five minute walk to and from campus alone in the dark. As well as that, sitting in big lecture halls made me feel disengaged from the lecturer that sent me to sleep during some of my nine a.m. classes. Studying Arts meant everyone’s timetables varied, and organising hangouts with people from any of my classes became difficult, especially if they were commuting. I watched large tight-knit friend groups around me spouting inside jokes that made no sense to me but still made me feel left out. That alone was enough for me to convince myself that not a single one of them experienced dull moments alone between classes as I did. I missed my old friends from before college and even when I checked up on them, they were surrounded by new strangers on Instagram.  

The reality, however, is that so many others were feeling that same loneliness and heaviness, but each of us wore our masks, so that nobody knew. If I had known then what I know now, perhaps I wouldn’t have trudged through each day, wondering if it was going to get easier for me. Wondering when it would start to feel familiar and comfortable and really become “the best days of my life.” I put so much pressure on that expectation that I only ended up more anxious about settling in. There were evenings I cried, evenings I considered dropping out, evenings I skipped lectures because I was too exhausted from worrying through every hour. My bag felt heavier, carrying the masks that hid my fears, and my feet dragged heavily through autumn leaves and winter puddles of rain that only dampened those unnecessarily cold days even more. 

I participated diligently in tutorials and took as many notes as I could scribble down during lectures, but outside of my timetable I had no idea who I was. I felt anonymous. It took longer than I expected to come out of my shell and get talking to people. Each day it got a little easier, until one day I found myself laughing with classmates in the intervals between lectures. I allowed myself the space to step back a little from studying. I pushed myself to attend society events; some of which I wholeheartedly enjoyed, others which I came to realise were not for me. Things appeared to be getting easier, but it was always short-lived, for as soon as I returned to my dreary boxroom, I was all alone again.  

This sense of loneliness weighed my footsteps throughout that first semester and often prompted reminders of the support systems I was surrounded by before attending university. I thought of my close friends, my family and my incredible teachers who were right beside me, when studying for the Leaving Cert became too much. I might have been “Miss H1” to my classmates, but I put pressure on myself. I was burned out multiple times and on the rare occasion it forced tears out of me that I just could not hold back in front of those comforting faces. It was tough, to say the least, but on those days when I would break (no matter how hard I’d tried not to), those teachers were there. They understood. One of them sat with me, made me tea, offered biscuits and tissues, allowed me space to cry and feel safe, and most importantly they listened to me. Another teacher gave me a hug, offered me valuable advice, checked in with me, made me feel like a person again and not some Leaving Cert robot. One made the workload a little lighter and reminded me to be proud of how far I’ve come. All of them were there for me. All of them taught me how to take a breather, most of all, they all reminded me how to be human. 

Being a college student meant that I lost that support system, even that of my family because of the distance between Maynooth and my home. Building similar relationships with tutors and lectures felt less appropriate, but also near impossible with the sheer volume of students that they teach each day. I longed to be able to at least build a foundation of trust with my mentors as I had been able to do in school, to have someone to discuss with when assignments or tutorial tasks were unclear or when I was unsure about what should be prioritised when studying for exams. However, my attempts were further complicated because tutors and lecturers altered frequently depending on what modules I took each semester.  

I remember my first exams and the mass emails that told us to check a new website that I was completely unfamiliar with for timetabling information. When I eventually logged into the University system after what felt like twenty-factor-authentication, I was told what venue to go to, what time the exam began and what seat I were supposed to sit in. That was it. It was daunting never having been in those exam halls before, and in my case, not even knowing what part of campus one of them was on. I looked with confusion at the campus map on my phone, zooming in and out, and hoping that out of all the towering, grey buildings, I had found the right one. I know I wasn’t the only one though. I have heard of people missing their exam entirely because they could not find the venue in time, causing them to repeat in August with the brutalist buildings serving as beacons of their misfortune from then on. So please, when you receive your exam venues, walk around and find out where you need to go a few days beforehand. Trust me, it’ll make those assessments just a little easier. 

So yes, the first semester in college is rocky for some of us. As you wander around campus, it’s easy to become overwhelmed by imposing buildings or busy crowds of students walking opposite directions through the tight doors of TSI or John Hume.  

Then something clicks… 

Gradually the entire campus becomes the familiar space that you miss when you return home at the weekends or at the end of each day. You make friends at the clubs and societies events throughout the day and save studying for those quiet evenings spent in digs. You’re able to spend all morning in bed because you need the extra rest at least once a week and your classes don’t start until 2pm that day (and if you’re really lucky, there’ll be days when you have no classes at all). You get to study the things that you’re interested in, not because you have to, but because you want to. Learning becomes enjoyable (well, to some extent). You’ll go for coffee or lunch with a friend and they’ll tell you that they’ve also felt all those strange emotions that unpacked themselves the day you moved away from home. You know then that you’re not alone, that so many other students have had their difficulties settling in but bravely wore their masks to hide it. Knowing that, makes each day a little easier, you feel a little lighter on your trudging feet, and you feel a little more human again. The days begin to feel warmer, even when it’s wet and windy outside, because you’ve done it. You’ve gotten through the first semester. You’ve finally found your feet, now they’re not so heavy, and the whole university-thing isn’t half as bad as you thought. 

It’ll take time to allow yourself to become woven into university life. It’s not all as simple as the movies, books and social media make it seem, and that’s completely normal. Though I know that some of you will most definitely slot into university like it’s your natural habitat, the rest of us may miss what we have become so familiar with throughout our years in secondary school. Regardless, university life has something for us all, for some of us, it just takes a little longer to put our masks aside and find it! 

Yours truly, 

Second Year.