You make friends for life at uni is a phrase often thrown around.
My course led to one specific career route: go to London, make adverts. Which is great, but when I found the London life wasn’t for me, I hung around in our crime-rich student town with no idea where to go next.
At this point I struggled to find a job, and couldn’t afford to put a roof over my head. I think I would call this my rock bottom. One week I graduated uni, the next I got kicked out of my house with no idea where to go, and no idea what to do.
At this point my course mates were landing internships, some even jobs, flying across the globe and achieving dreams. None of these things were things I wanted to do anymore, but I was so trained to want them, that my “breaking” London was a sign of success, it was hard to face my peers when London broke me.
Not because I know they wouldn’t support me, I believe they are the best people in the world. Not because I knew they wouldn’t still respect me, I would help and admire them through anything. Just because the idea of not wanting that path was so foreign to even me, and it was how I felt, that how could they even know what to say.
Suddenly the people I stood shoulder to shoulder with felt like they towered above me like giants. They knew what they wanted. They had a job, a purpose. They had a roof over their heads that they knew wasn’t going anywhere.
This blog is an excuse, a reason for missed parties, declined calls and unanswered texts messages.
This blog is a reason, a reason I wasn’t there, a reason I’ve gotten lost somewhere along the way.
This blog is a message, you people are the best damn people in the world, and everyday I wish the best for you. I’m just finding my feet right now. I’ll get there.