Why I Left University

When I started university a year and a half ago, I didn’t know what I was doing. I enjoyed making short films at college and was obsessed with TV dramas so, on a whim one August morning, I decided to apply for a TV Production course through clearing. Half way through the year, I realised I hated it.

It may have been partially due to a series of bad things that happened in my personal life but either way I became depressed and university was no longer a place where I felt happy or safe. Looking back, I realise I should have left there and then but the fear of failure in me crawled out and I was determined to at least complete the year even if I hated every second of it.

I got on with all the people on the course and my decision to leave was not impacted by them; it was the course and university life that were my problems.

Even when I had finished that year, I still should have thought harder about whether going back to uni would be the best thing for me but instead I was determined to go back and be with my friends, so I chose the course that, if anything was going to make me happy, surely this would be it: Creative Writing.

I loved the course. I was learning new skills and techniques for my writing that I didn’t know before. I was learning what worked for me and my voice and what didn’t. But I felt trapped.

Everything I wrote was being judged by the tutors, the other students, and most importantly, me. Nothing felt good enough. I didn’t feel good enough. Fantasy was frowned upon because it was seen as escapism whereas good writing is supposed to bring a grounding reality to the reader (whereas I believe that fantasy is one of the best ways to bring a grounding reality to a reader). Romance was always a little too cliché to write about, so with both my niches out the window, I felt lost. It was like learning to write from the start all over again.

I also felt like an outsider. I didn’t see many of my friends from the year before anymore because I was on a different campus and didn’t want to go out drinking anymore. Very few of them got in contact with me once the new year started and I lost contact with them. Even people I had been very close to in halls weren’t around anymore.

I was also an outsider to the people on my course. Looking back, I know I could have tried harder to make friends but when you’re constantly in a swirl of anxiety and unsure of yourself, and everyone else seems to be making friends so quickly and easily, it’s hard to put yourself out there.

I had my housemates and closest friends who lived nearby, but even their support (and my friends really did give me the best support, I’ll always be grateful for them), I still felt lonely. I missed home and my family and my boyfriend. I felt like everything I loved was miles and miles away. I just wasn’t happy.

At Christmas, I thought I’d give it another go. I’d work hard on my coursework and see where it got me. In January, I was offered a late entry place at a university near home to do the same course and I accepted it so that I could be at home. But I knew I wouldn’t be happy there either. I’d always felt trapped at uni and in education. I wanted to get out there and start living my life. Earn money and save up for things.  Be able to spend time with my friends and family instead of worrying about coursework and exams and deadlines all the time, three hours’ drive away from home.

I wanted to live.

So, I left university once and for all. I moved back home, found a job, and got started on living my life. And I’m happy.