Every emotion you go through in your first month of uni

Yes, hunger is an emotion

Spreading your wings, fleeing the nest, whatever your parents want to call it whilst they are sobbing, taking pictures and trying to help you unpack boxes into your new dim, empty room, probably in a massive uninviting building which is now your new home for the next year. You look around worried but also excited for what’s about to come, you then take a deep breath (mainly because your parents have stressed you out so much). Then you tell them politely that you can unpack the rest on your own and discreetly shoo them out so you can socialise with your new flat mates without them faffing around after you.


As much as you want to act like the mature new adult, you are scared shitless of what is about to come, with your parents staying overnight in a hotel it hasn’t quite hit you yet that this time next week, you would have been living all alone. No siblings barging into your room asking if you can spot them a fiver for their lunch, no nagging, no nothing.

When you’re able to sit in your new room (which has a lock on it) without any of these things occurring, it is different and you realise that your life has changed, and change is really quite scary. During your first week of uni you are almost like a hawk  trying to spot people on your course to see if they have best friend potential, and when you don’t pluck up the courage to speak to them, you ask yourself the fearful questions: Am I going to make friends? Will they live up to the potential of my friends back home? Do I even like it here? Breakdown number one is about to commence.



You’re in a brand new city which all of your older mates have been banging on about for the past year. You have more than enough to do to keep you occupied for the next five years in comparison to your hometown. However, you’re so hungover from the big night out before at Lakota that you still can’t find the motivation to stop watching the real housewives and leave your accommodation to explore.

You’ve smothered your room in fairy lights and keep convincing yourself how happy and zen you are in your new little nest.



It’s Freshers’ Week – you have met the majority of the people on your floor and the people you are going to be bumping into around the city for the next three years. You have a bottle of wine in one hand, your new best mate in the other and after a few glasses you exclaim your love to your flatmates and say how lucky you are to have them living next door to you.

You love everybody and are having the ‘best time ever’ prancing around, knocking on people’s doors, giving your cigarettes out, bumping into matey from the other night, inviting her over. Everybody is united and your crowded kitchen is full of looooove. P.s You also realise that your parents are saints.

It's hard to be bored in Bristol

Bottle of wine and my new best mate


From the moment you try and settle into uni life you convince yourself that you are happy, it is quite similar to love. You will Skype your best friend from home and tell her how much you love uni life, how happy you are with your flat mates, and how everything is going so well. Your parents will ring, you’re probably mid-breakdown as it buzzes, but for the seven-minute phone call you get your shit together and repeat how happy you are in this new place and you haven’t even had time to miss home yet.

It’s approximately your third week you are a little bit more settled (for now) and at pre drinks you see familiar faces, you see the guys from the flat next door, you’re all listening to Diana Ross and some disco bangers and you are actually starting to feel genuinely happy (or at least the rosé is making you feel that way).

oi oi

oi oi


You never really think that you would feel lonely when this is probably the first time in your life where there are constantly so many people around you. However, you do, and you shouldn’t be afraid to admit it. Student accommodation can feel like the loneliest place on earth, especially when you are missing everything and everyone at home.

It is okay to feel like this, tell people that you miss them. Let at least one person know that you’re feeling like this, because they probably are too.

sad and lonely


Everything about uni is exciting, especially if you are moving to a new place. You are out of your comfort zone, but the next three years of full of exciting prospects to come. You’re studying a course of your choice, you’re able to speak to professionals in this particular subject all the time, you’re on the pathway to the job what you (think) you want as a real adult. Because being a student is just a fake adult.

Additionally, to live in halls, particularly one with a reputation as being a bit mental, you have to be excited and up for anything or else it really, really just doesn’t work.



Last but not least, and probably the worst of them all. Your parents have stocked you up with all of the best bits from your new local Tesco before they decided to jet back to what is now your old house filled with their constant supply of your favourite treats. You’ve got your Lurpack butter, Heinz ketchup, avocados to make your favourite Instagram brunch, and enough penne pasta to feed a family of five for the next ten months.

However, week four is approaching and you’re starting to run out of the essentials, you know that you’re going to have to make a dreaded trip to the shop but you keep putting it off, just like that assignment that’s due in next Monday.

You try to fill yourself up with tinned soups and toast but it’s just not the same as your mum’s cottage pie, and probably never will be for the next three years.



When people use the phrase emotional roller coaster it’s always a bit cliché, however, uni is an absolute exception to use it whenever you want. There are so many ups yet so many downs, it’s not as breezy as people expect and you are literally clinging onto hope at times (just like you are on that roller coaster which is throwing you upside down).

Despite this you just have to keep going, keep having fun, keep embarrassing yourself in front of new people, keep ordering dominoes because you can’t be bothered to cook and most importantly keep smiling. This is probably going to be the best three years of your life.