Someone Once Gave Me Awful Advice

I went to two Universities, one for a year, and then spontaneously dipped to enrol into another University. Well, I say it was out of spontaneity - but it was actually out of spite.

I had visited the first University's advisor/counsellor. At the time, I was really struggling with depression: had a shit first boyfriend, was too far from home, had no friends, and lived with a passive-aggressive, dictator-like flatmate who firmly believed that you could be impregnated from oral sex. I tried to inform her otherwise, but she was delusionally stubborn and a pain in the arse. So, in the end, I told her that she was in fact right, and it was a conspiracy to think otherwise. She got a boyfriend shortly after. Whoops.

Anyways, there I was, in this cramped, dingy magnolia walled office with brown furniture that looked aged (if that's even possible), with scattered house plants that somehow managed to look equally as dull as the decor. In hindsight, I should have known from simply stepping into that room that it wasn't going to end well - but I was desperate. After some time of pouring my eyes out to this woman, and answering her questions on what was going on with my shit show of a first-year, her advice was:

"Well, if you're struggling, then I'd advise you to leave - really."

I remember looking up from the floor and catching this bemused and dismissive expression that was plastered across her face and matched her fitting bored-toned voice. Within an instance, the sadness evaporated, and as my mouth dropped to the floor, this feeling of - what I can only label as - sass washed over me. At that moment in time, I honestly felt like the personification of the expression, "Excuse-a-fucking-me." Like, this woman's role was to advise me for the better - not tell me to just quit university as if I'm some failure of a crybaby not good enough for that snobby establishment. Especially, as I had worked hard to get the grades for that University. Wild, absolutely wild. Even when you look at it from a career perspective, she's paid to make students stay and provide support. Not just bat them off and tell them to quit. It was crappy advice and work ethic, right?

That saying, the audacity that leaked from this woman had riled me up to new heights of motivation, spite, and just general 'fuck you-ness'. My response was something like, "Well, okay then." And I left that office pissed off, thinking, "Well, you know what, I will." So, I stormed off to find somewhere to sit my arse down with my laptop, and just began Googling other universities. Somehow, one woman managed to flip my whole perspective of that particular institution to a complete 180. From once being a dream that I grafted for, and spent days fantasising about my life beginning there. To this seemingly apathetic, incompetent, soulless institution that was undeservingly blessed with beautiful buildings.

I didn't drop out right there and right then though. As a safety net (and a slight fuck you to this woman - I wanted my degree, regardless), I did stick it out at that particular university until the end of the year - whilst exploring for other courses, of course. And, yes, admittedly, I did stay with the shit boyfriend, but I lost my virginity to him and was wearing highly saturated red-tinted glasses. Can you really blame a confused hopeless romantic who liked Alex Turner look-a-likes? Although, he was a bit of a stretch. And that's a phase I'm definitely over.

Oh, and no, the relationship didn't carry on after I left. It ended as soon I left my flat. Thankfully.

Anyways, that following summer, I went home and with one phone call (and the usual UCAS stuff) - I had enrolled on to my second University. A second chance. With a fresh perspective, newfound confidence, a switched up outlook - I had the best time. It was a rollercoaster of experiences, emotions, and memories were created that I treasured then - and still do now. I found a place where I could be my authentic self, found people who genuinely made me laugh and feel comfortable, happy, and excited. I was always in the presence of the most unique characters who you could never predict. The conversations were always out of the box; our antics were rowdy, hilarious, and risky. We even hosted the best block party. During the calmer nights, we were snuggled up, watching TV or Love Actually (2003), debating the logistics on whether it's The One or The Ones. And those nights at the afters, when we'd sing in the kitchen to slow songs, waving our lighters in the air. Reminiscing, chatting absolute shite while we stuffed our faces with the most royal chicken. They were, and I must say, genuinely weird and wonderful times, with wonderfully weird people.

And even though those memories are of the past, and the friends I once treasured are no longer around - I take responsibility for that - I guess I'm just grateful for having those times to look back on. To the times where every day was an adventure, with the people who made life an adventure.

My degree was even taught better.

So, to the advisor who told me to quit the first University:

Genuinely, from the bottom of my heart - thank you. It was the best advice you could have ever given to me at that time. I hope you're out of that stuffy office and doing well.