'It’s a funny thing coming home. Nothing changes. Everything looks the same, feels the same, even smells the same. You realize what’s changed is you.’ (F. Scott Fitzgerald)
Today, 28th June 2019, marks one year since graduation from the University of St Andrews. I was nervous that day, cripplingly so. In anxiety dreams, I stepped confidently on to that historic stage only to trip over the hem of my gown and tumble to the ground in an embarrassing sequence later available on DVD. Fortunately, having managed to stay upright for the entire twenty seconds, I returned to my seat with a degree between my sweating palms. The anxiety was expected to subside immediately - it didn’t. It gripped me for the entire car journey back across the border. It maintained a tight hold as I returned home to stare at the four purple walls of my childhood bedroom and wonder “what next?” In fact, with this very question, the anxiety has popped up in regular intervals during the year that’s followed.
The truth is this - graduating from university is a huge accomplishment to be proud of. But, beneath the ‘well done’ cards, a support network is breaking apart. Friends, previously a short walk away, are now dotted across the globe. A social life constructed on clubs and societies collapses without its foundation. Plus, if you’re moving back home, as I did, it’s time to put some of that young adult independence on hold until an unspecified endpoint. Though the anxiety seemed irrational at the time, it was actually a perfectly logical response to tremendous change. In fact, it’s only in the past few weeks I’ve begun to feel anything close to settled, which is odd given that I spent years splitting life between England and Scotland. If I had to sum up the year as a whole, it’s been a process of rebuilding. Writing from the library where I borrowed Enid Blyton as a child, here is my advice to surviving it all with a smile.
I NEED A DOLLAR
Firstly – the graduate job search. It’s an endless, time-consuming hunt on the Serengeti of Linkedin. Words flash before my eyes as I sleep: ‘exciting opportunity,’ ‘competitive salary’ and ‘we are unable to respond to unsuccessful applicants.’ The other option, grad schemes, are a fresh new hell. White-toothed, bright-eyed groups of young people decorate the glossy application pages that ask you to submit 500 words on why you’d be ‘a great fit for the team.’ It’s extremely draining with the constant rejection and unanswered emails. There’s also well-meaning but exasperating support from family friends, on hand to offer sage advice about ‘getting your foot in the door’…40 years ago. “Have you tried tailoring your CV to each application?” they ask cunningly, as if presenting secret underground wisdom, and not stage 1 of ‘job-hunting for dummies.’ My advice - round-up friends in a similar situation and launch a WhatsApp group or Messenger chat. Screenshot every single unfair rejection or bizarre job description. My friend Natasha and I meet regularly to vent about recent rejections. Laughing about the ones I’ve really ground my teeth over always leaves me feeling lighter than before.
HOME SWEET HOME
In the short time after graduating, those memories of late nights in the library and nerve-shredding presentations are still fresh in the brain. This can make returning to the place you came from feel like a disappointment or a comedown. It seems like all that sleep-deprivation went nowhere and, let’s face it, bumping into school bullies in Sainsbury’s is far from ideal. However, though the graffiti on your hometown walls may not have changed, you yourself are far from the same person. It’s pleasing to spot these alterations in your personality. Pre-university Carla wouldn’t have set foot in a spin class, assuming these were for the athletically advantaged alone; post-university Carla goes every Sunday. Besides, returning home can also be a chance to reconnect with those you’ve lost touch with. At first, I worried that messaging old friends after so long would appear weird, but actually, when the shoe’s been on the other foot, I’ve felt touched that someone remembered me after so long. And besides, if unnerved, they can just avoid you in Sainsbury’s.
MISSING UNIVERSITY
Seeing photos on Facebook from friends still enjoying the student pub crawls provokes envy and certain songs on Spotify shuffle evoke waves of longing for the dancefloor days. Whilst you can’t turn back the clock, this feeling can be lessened by slipping university habits into your normal life (minus the binge drinking perhaps!) For instance, in St Andrews, I assigned myself different cafes for different moods – one for when I fancied bumping into people I knew; another for when my book beckoned. I now have a similar plan with the cafes on my high street and it brings a comforting sense of familiarity.
My biggest hope for 28th June 2020 is that I don’t even notice its significance. I’d like the second anniversary of graduation to simply pass me by without the worries of whether I’ve achieved enough or progressed from where I was before. Though the future is still as uncertain as it was a year ago, the anxiety gradually dwindles away as the question of ‘what next’ is drowned out by ‘what now.’
