The year before I came to university was one of the most challenging experiences of my life. Not only was it the beginning of my social transition in my final year of sixth form, but my friends at the time had forgotten my 18th birthday. My mental health was rapidly declining, made worse by the steady creep of my A-Level exams drawing closer and my untreated neurodivergence that made schoolwork so much more difficult compared to my peers. I felt alone. Even worse, and the final cherry on top, was my nan’s death roughly two months before my exams started. Good grades seemed impossible. University itself seemed impossible, and I felt as if I would never get anywhere. 

And now, the first semester of my second year at Manchester is over, and I just have to say that life does get better, and that what seems impossible can always be achievable. Temporary discomfort and setbacks do not define you.

Transition during high school was a no-go – I was already bullied during high school, and I didn’t want any more attention. My close friends were already aware that I was nonbinary, but I decided to finally come out in the new school year after chewing on my thumb for the entirety of year 12. I was genuinely shocked at the support I received from my school, as they let me change my name on the school system and tried their best to accommodate me. I wasn’t the first transgender student my sixth form had dealt with, and I certainly won’t be the last, but I was still one out of a handful. The confidence this gave me, being able to be myself and not having to hide for once, carried me through the year as hard as it was. 

During the two weeks before my 18th birthday, I had celebrated the birthdays of two of my friends in the same group. I was nervous about turning 18, obviously – the passage of time is frightening! But my birthday, unlike theirs, hadn’t been remembered. I remember crying and going home early, with empty promises about bringing in a birthday card the next day. I felt like I was alone and that no one actually liked me, already feeling vulnerable from coming out. In some way it convinced me that I didn’t deserve to have friends; the problem was not with me, but with the fact that I was still trying to fit in with people who weren’t meant for me. I was trying to be someone I wasn’t.

My nan’s death shocked the entire family. I remember being picked up from sixth form early, something that never happened, and being told that she was in hospital. Over the next week she remained unresponsive before she finally passed, just under two months before my first A-Level exam, and it took a huge toll on all of us. I became so much worse mentally; I felt empty, numb, and unmotivated for so long that it had a huge impact on my studies and my social life. I quit my job because I couldn’t handle the pressure of studying and mourning, and stayed in my tiny bedroom a lot where I could see the hospital she died in from the window. It was agony. I knew I had to get out of there and go to university to be able to start healing, but it all felt so impossible, so hard to achieve. 

The exams came and went like everything else. It seemed like everything at the time and now it’s nothing, just something that happened. But I know I didn’t do the best I could have, what with everything going on, and ultimately I ended up with two B’s and C. I had applied to the joint honours Ancient History and Archaeology course here at The University of Manchester, which required ABB or a contextual BBB, and I knew in my heart of hearts that if I wanted to get into this university, I had to put the extra effort in to ensure my place. I knew I wouldn’t have gotten in with my grades even before I ever opened the results, and so I looked into the contextual admissions that Manchester offers. MDAS, the Manchester Distance Access Scheme, was applicable to me because of where I’m from in Liverpool. I essentially just had to comlete an essay over the summer before results day, both to prove my skills and dedication to study here, which lowered the grade needed by one.

It was a lot of effort, especially when everyone else had started to relax after our exams. But I remember waking up on results day, logging onto my laptop and into UCAS, to see I had been accepted into Manchester: I hollered! Instead of the joint honours course, I was only offered the single honours Archaeology; I accepted it without a second thought, and I’m so very thankful I did. It really made my year, and I’m so proud of myself for having done that. 

Now that I’m here, being at The University of Manchester has seriously improved my mental health and my relationship to myself. It’s allowed me to separate myself from home and it’s given me the opportunity to heal, and in doing so made me feel so much happier! I’ve made so many friends on my course, more than I ever had at home, and I finally feel like I’m allowed to be my true self. University is not easy, but the effort is worth it. You need to do what’s best for you, and I hope that, by writing this, someone will be inspired to keep going. I’m rooting for you!