Illustration by Rebecca Nolten.

It’s the dawn of a new year and the end of the university vacation so, typically, it’s the perfect time to reflect. Reflect on the year gone by, the six weeks of holiday that have all but disappeared, the first term of my third and final year at this university, and my life in general as I begin to steadily approach my 21st birthday at the end of this month. I’m writing this article after a session of dreaded doom scrolling on social media, spending hours catching up on all the messages from friends I’ve left on delivered for a few days (or more…) and ultimately feeling a bit defeated. I’m currently visiting family in Devon and the fresh country air must be clearing out my senses because my mind is frequently flitting between states of peace and slowness, and running at a million miles an hour. Everything seems to be constantly moving and shifting and sometimes I’m unsure if I am actively moving with it all, or just getting dragged along helplessly by my hair (ow!). 

As the new year dawns I ponder on what is to come. It’s impossible to know of course, but that won’t stop my anxiety-ridden and obsessively organised brain from trying to figure and plan it all out. Degree, job, moving out, keeping friends, losing friends, dating, eating well, working out and a plethora of other – all seemingly equally important – things swimming around my copiously expansive mind. Which to pick? Which should I spend my time focusing on? Ultimately – what’s most important to me? Honestly, I don’t know the answer, or at least it differs day to day (or, more realistically, hour to hour). 

I seem to be being pulled in ten different directions. Even though I feel like I know what I want, it seems to keep being pushed further and further out of reach. I want to do this. I want to write. After taking over The Blue as Editor in Chief last term, my love for journalism has only grown and I quickly realised I couldn’t imagine doing anything else. However, it’s competitive, it’s cutthroat and it doesn’t pay as well as my law and finance friends on obscene starting salaries. So even though I feel happy about my choice, there are some reservations there too. A career is something that is bigged up all your life. From day one in preschool you have that one day a year where you can come dressed up as ‘what you want to be when you grow up’. God knows I went through it all–from an actor and dancer (gotta love the pressure of going to a performing arts school) to an archeologist (I just have a weird obsession with ancient Egypt okay?!). I covered every base. But I’m not a wide-eyed kid anymore with my teenage and young adult years stretching endlessly before me. I’m 21 (nearly) and about to have my first big girl job (hopefully). And even as someone with a career choice in mind, it seems more difficult to figure out now than it did all those years ago. Don’t get me wrong, I’m excited. I want to move into a little London flat with my close friends like we’ve been talking about endlessly for months. I want a more permanent place to call my own, make my own money, finally move away from academia (I love you but I hate you, cursed English Degree) and build a life of my own. But first, I have to get through the next 6 months of what I know will be very intense work to pass those final exams that seem to be looming ever closer.

Turning 21 is also rather frightening. I’m currently trying to plan my birthday party – something I hate (and usually tend to avoid doing) every year. But as I lost my 18th to COVID-19 and it’s my final birthday at uni – likey the last time that (nearly) all my friends will be in the same place at the same time – I feel obligated to take advantage of it and do something. Don’t get me wrong, I do love a party and I love socialising with my friends, but upon beginning to curate a guest list I have reflected a lot on the relationships that I have made and lost over these years in Oxford. The people I invite are an accumulation of all my best and worst, highest and lowest moments in this institution and are the people I hope to stay friends with far beyond the three fleeting years of my degree that, ultimately, make up only a tiny fraction of my life. I decided to go simple and invite all the people that I know I will be happy to see as the clock strikes midnight and I ring in another year of living. So no pressure then. Perhaps it’s silly how much I think about these things, and yet I doubt I’m alone in doing so…

I guess there isn’t exactly a ton of “point” to this article. It’s more a collection of lost, floating, and resurfacing thoughts that the loss of the old year, and the dawn of the new one, has drawn out of the woodwork. I guess I needed to get it down on paper and hope that you (the reader) will take some company in me with any of your similar musings. This is a love letter to other finalists who feel equally as confused about this thing called “growing up”. I’m with you. And I hope we figure it out (or at least begin to try).