Places I’ve Cried at University

Your first cry at university is like a rite of passage. It is an inevitable occurrence that sets you up for a minimum of 3 years of crying in various locations. I was a particularly mobile crier in first year and I am proud to say I ticked off various key locations. From my dorm room to the toilets of grotty night club, I have shed many tears that mark some of my most memorable moments of first year.

My first cry occurred outside my dorm room. Miraculously, I didn’t shed a tear as my family drove away from me across the university car park but that pent up emotion all came flooding out when I got locked out my bedroom. It’s a rocky mistake: we were given lanyards to put our room key and student card on to avoid getting locked out. At risk of looking like the stereotypical ‘lanyard wanker’ first year, I left it on my desk when I went into the kitchen in the morning of one of my first days. Blissfully unaware of the chaos about to ensue, I enjoyed my cup of tea by the window in our kitchen and patted myself on the back for handling everything so calmly… Oh the irony! I made my way back to my bedroom to discover that my door had been locked by a cleaner and my key and student card were inside my room. I felt the dread bubble in my stomach immediately and the lump form in my throat, but I was determined to deal with the situation like the grown woman I believed myself to be. It was at that moment that I realised I was wearing pyjamas and I had no shoes on, and I would have to walk across campus to an unknown building to collect a spare key to let myself in. The floodgates opened as I slid down my door to the floor and SOBBED. After some soothing words from my lovely mum over the phone, I plucked up the courage to knock on my flatmates door and ask to borrow some of her shoes and her key. I look back on that moment now and cannot help but laugh; that flatmate is now one of my best friends and I now proudly wear my lanyard because there is no way in HELL I am getting locked out again.

A personal favourite cry for me occurred after a big night out. The atmosphere was already strange as various different flatmates were all going through their own issues. It all came to a crescendo when after a few too many Jägerbombs, we crawled back to the flat and sobbed together on the floor of my friend’s room. It was simultaneously the most cathartic and bizarre moment of my life as all four of us clung to each other and had a good old cry. Moral of the story is, if you are going to cry, at least cry with friends.

You would be mistaken if you thought all my cries were inside the safe walls of my first year flat… It was during the first weeks of university that I was sent off to the library for the first time to hunt down a book of literary criticism. As if the huge concrete building of multiple floors in front of me wasn’t intimidating enough, I had yet to attend the talk on how to use the library, so I went in blind. This was a highly regrettable decision which ended with me inside one of the private study cubicles having a little weep. It was the most silent cry of my life, as the cubicles are almost like changing rooms with dividers that do nothing to muffle the cries of students. It was cinematic; the way the singular tear formed on my lower eyelashes and tumbled down my cheek as I looked out at rolling fields and contemplated if I was even taking the right degree. I mean, I am a literature student. Libraries are my friend, and yet somehow, I felt like I had been pushed into a cage of lions. Eventually, I admitted defeat and asked someone for directions. Moral of this story? Ask for help and avoid crying in library study cubicles unless you have a fetish for a whole library floor listening to your sobs.

But not all tears that were shed in my first year were filled with sadness or distress. In fact, I would hazard a guess that I cried with joy or laughter more than I did from sadness. A moment that really sticks out to me is when my flatmate grew out his moustache for Movember and he bore a strong resemblance to the man on the Pringles packet. I giggled to the point of hysterical tears and stomach pains when he walked into the kitchen. Our kitchen was the centre of many moments of crying laughter, another being when my flatmate recreated the ‘Tanisha No Sleep’ vine with frying pans. That video continues to make me giggle today, even having seen it hundreds of times.

University is an emotional roller-coaster… No, scrap that, it’s more like an emotional hurricane that hits you full force, but I wouldn’t change that for anything. It took me to the highest of the highs and the lowest of the lows, but it is those experiences that bond you with new friends and make you memories for life.