As my time in Manchester draws to and end and graduation nears, I have been taking time to reflect on the last-four year of my life as a student.

When I applied to university, I had zero intention of actually going. I did barely any research on what course to study or where to go, completing my application to satisfy my Sixth Form whilst dreaming about the interrail trip that would mark the beginning of my indefinite gap year. My plan was to work and travel, with the aim of discovering who I was and what I wanted for the future through gaining work experience, challenging myself, seeing the world and finally existing outside education.

Then, in March 2020, the pandemic hit, as did a gradual wave of travel warnings, hostel cancellations and halted work possibilities that slowly symbolised the end of my gap year plans. I felt deflated, confused and unsure about the future, and craving stability and something to work towards, I accepted my offer from the University of Manchester. That September, I moved to Fallowfield full of doubts and anxieties, telling myself that I could always drop out if I felt university life wasn’t for me.

Around December of first year, I almost did. I remember emailing the admin team from a bench in Platt Fields Park to ask them about the withdrawal process, consumed by feelings of homesickness, self-doubt, and frustration. Being a fresher amidst pandemic restrictions was extremely difficult, and the year was marked by periods of isolation, constant testing, online lectures, and a social circle that couldn’t extend beyond your flat. At the same time, however, this close-knit environment forged some of my closest friendships, living away from home felt exciting, especially once restrictions began to ease and we could start exploring the city, and the feelings of inferiority I had around my course were remedied by positive feedback on assignments and modules that really interested me. I tried to hold on to these positives, deciding to stick with it and finish first year.

Looking back, I am so proud of my resilience, and so glad I managed to persevere. By that summer, I had begun to fall in love with Manchester and the student lifestyle as the city opened back up, the weather improved, and I settled into the routine of academia. I made great friends and spent my weekends watching the football in a Fallowfield pub garden or tanning in Chorlton Water Park, before returning to Ashburne library, my go-to study spot, to get stuck into my essays. I went home that summer excited to return, and a completely different person to when I arrived.

Thankfully, second year lived up to these expectations and more. Between finally being able to attend in-person classes, join societies and go clubbing, as well as living with friends and feeling more academically confident, I finally felt completely settled and content. So many of my course mates and friends felt the same, and the year flew by in a buzz of excitement, opportunities, and growth. I worked for a local education charity, visited a friend studying abroad in Amsterdam, explored so much of Manchester’s creativity and vibrance and felt myself becoming more independent, confident, and sure of my future.

As a Spanish student, I had always known that my third year would be spent abroad, but as it drew closer, I began to dread the thought of leaving the Manchester bubble for something completely new. I decided to teach English in Spain, and after a stressful visa process, somewhat reluctantly boarded the plane, again anxious, uncertain, and full of self-doubt. Starting again was daunting, especially when I felt like I was leaving so much behind. However, I now recognise so many parallels between this year and my first year, as after a tough first few months of making friends, finding accommodation, and adjusting to work, I began to thrive. I couldn’t believe the resilience I had developed, from navigating becoming homeless as the floor of my flat collapsed (yes, seriously), to building amazing friendships with strangers from across the world by putting myself out there. I had an amazing year, travelling Europe, discovering a passion for teaching, and experiencing working life in Spain. If you have the opportunity to spend any time abroad as part of your course, I can’t recommend it enough, as it was a truly transformative experience. I boarded the plane home that summer tanned and in tears, clutching goodbye letters from friends, colleagues, and pupils alike. I knew that my final year of university would be a shock in comparison, but I didn’t anticipate how much.

This year has been difficult, and I was not prepared for how much a place that one felt like home could suddenly not anymore. Between friends having graduated and moved away, living in a new place with new people and the looming pressure of a dissertation and exams, I struggled to slot back into university life. However, I gradually begin to cherish my final months living in Manchester, and now, packing up to leave and about to finish my final exams, I feel ready to move onto the next chapter, but also grateful for how this one has ended. Re-connecting with old friends, discovering the old and new of the city and adjusting back to student life with the experience and knowledge gained on my year abroad has been a bittersweet experience, and it took a lot of patience and kindness towards myself, as well as exercising the resilience and perseverance that I have gained over the last four years.

University has offered me the independence, opportunities, and discovery that I dreamed of as a 17-year-old imagining my future, alongside life-long friendships, life-changing memories, and life-enriching professional and academic prospects. I could never have predicted that I would end up at UoM, but I am so glad that I did.