Why Rejection Makes You A Badass Chick (originally posted on Zusterschap)

Everyone else was nervous, but not me. “I just have a good feeling about it! Why wouldn’t I get the part?” I thought to myself cheerily. To me, it was certainly a good question. My audition had gone flawlessly; I hit the high notes without breaking into a screech, remembered all my lines without stumbling and blushing – hey, I even had short hair! Just like Rizzo does in Grease! So essentially, it just made sense for me to get the part. I practically glided towards the board displaying the cast list for my high school of Grease, so blasé and laid back I felt about my fate. “Showbusiness is Flo’s businesss” was my mantra. At the time, I believed this to be exceptionally witty.

Except, um, it wasn’t Flo’s business, after all. There was a name next to “Rizzo” but it definitely wasn’t mine. Instead, it was next to Eugene. Remember the odd looking nerd at the start of the film who the T-Birds shove to the side in the hallway? The one who doesn’t have more than TWO lines in the whole thing? Yeah, my big high school production debut was playing that guy.

My big dreams of (well, relative) stardom went up in smoke. The next twenty four hours were as drama-filled as any episode of TOWIE whilst I jolted from one intense emotion to another. Initially, I was immensely hurt then I moved on to feeling vengeful and furious. Pure disgust followed after when the girl who had gotten the part wrote on my Bebo wall! All of this went down whilst my mum calmly encouraged me to just accept the part, play it brilliantly and to absolutely not show anybody that I upset over it not being the part I wanted.

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"An Education Isn't Always By The Book": Changing Courses at University

Whilst reflecting on second year at the University in Glasgow, I could describe it all through a number of memories; my friends' arms wrapped around my shoulders, whispering how glad they are to have met me; the taste of unfamiliar lips on mine; the sensation of glucose coursing through my veins at 1:30am in the library, forcing my eyelids open and keeping my head above the keyboard; the uneasy feeling that the endless snow had worked its way into my jacket, and into my shoes, and somehow into my bra; the laughter over one drink after another drink underneath the dim glow of Glasgow's most charming pubs; the tears that stung as I laid eyes on the email revealing my English lit essay result, and the depression that followed it.

Indeed, there has been no constant flow of good fortune, nor has there necessarily been the alternative to that. Yet in many ways, second year has been the most fun I've ever had, and the most comfortable I've ever felt with simply being myself; I feel loved, supported and appreciated for the young woman I am. My virtues and flaws are acknowledged and accepted. My friendships are equal; I never feel like I'm 'chasing' somebody, or that I'm the one falling over herself in the pursuit of a tiny snippet of conversation, only to feel like the fool when the person isn't there to help me back up.

But second year has also been a time of crippling doubt, and the dreadful sense that very soon I will have to make a decision I'd really rather not have to face.

I'm not confident in my degree subject, and to be honest, I never have been. Like I said in my last blog, I love books and I love writing but at university my grades have been consistently mediocre. Even after locking myself away from everybody else, ditching social occasions for the library, calling in sick at work to give myself the extra time on more than one occasion, I've still not achieved what I need to enter third year, and it's unlikely that I'll get there. With all that, I kind of fell out of love with the course along the way, too - I resented reading. For the first time in my life, I just did not want to pick up a book.

But I've made my decision.

Due to the flexible degree programme here in Scotland, I'm going to be switching to a sociology degree. I'm on my fourth year of studying sociology in total and have found it consistently inspiring and enjoyable. So really, it's only 'game over' for English Lit, not Glasgow in general. But it's been a difficult process to accept, and I can't say I haven't punished myself in the mean time; comparing myself to my more academically successful friends, wondering what my English teachers from school would think of me if they saw me now - the girl who would jump out of bed in the morning at the thought of their lessons.

But why punish myself any more? Like the quote in the blog title states, an education isn't always 'by the book'. For what I obviously haven't learnt in seminars, I feel no less enriched. I have a greater understanding than ever of how it is to simply be a young woman in this century - my academic results could never quantify that. There's no essay entitled 'How To Be A Good, Fulfilled Human Being' with scribbles and question marks in glaring red ink. There were never any lectures on the education I've really had whilst my academic one interested me less and less by the day.

I have learned that I cannot ever fully alleviate the parts of myself that I so frequently wish didn't exist, only learn to work with them; some friends really are going to be there for ever, and some have apparently just been checking their watches this whole time. I have learnt that being deeply introverted does not make me boring; hey, I can still churn out a damn good column. I have learnt that I need not be validated by male attention. In the hardest lesson of all, I have learnt that I can plan for my life all I want - you know, do my masters' by 23, move to London by 24, find the right man by 26, be a mother by 30 - but the truth is, that's just not realistic. I have never felt so uncertain about what lies ahead and that plan has been utterly jeopardised. I never anticipated having to feel like this, asking myself these questions and wonder where it all went wrong. It's not worked out.

But that's not to say that it won't work out at all. Between you and me - I'm hopeful. I really am.

Dear Freshers,

Well, you look awful. If you ended up in bed with somebody last night, they’ve probably taken one look at you and made a run for it.  Is that vomit in your hair or is your brain literally leaking out of your ear? I bet it feels like it is. I bet you were drawn towards those one pound Jagerbombs last night like a moth in the dark to candle light. It’s alright, though. This blog is a judgement-free zone. But if you ever actually want to recover, I would advise you to stay out of the kitchen where you hosted pre-drinks for a while yet; the actual state of it will plunge you even further into the dark, gloomy pits of this hellish hangover.

But then, you might not fit that description at all. I might have found you clear headed and fresh faced, ready to face the day and to face the new life you’re embarking on, but without alcohol and partying. That’s alright - you don’t have to do that. There's still every chance you might feel pressured into doing so - "come on, just one drink! Don't be boring!" - but you just do whatever the hell makes you feel comfortable. A lot of people use university as an excuse to teeter out of their comfort zone – in heels they cannot walk in, usually – but there is absolutely nothing wrong with staying contentedly within it. I commend you for it.

Nonetheless, it goes without saying that with all this newfound freedom and drinks that will cost you less than a bus ticket into town, you may find yourself making a bit of a tit of yourself in the next few years. You might make some mistakes; you might put faith into people who perhaps aren't worth it, you might get your social life/academics priorities wrong, you might drastically overestimate your ability to drink those Jagerbombs. You might even sleep with your flatmate! (no, I don't care HOW fit they are - nothing good will come of that situation) But you're better off making these mistakes now. You will learn from them, so forgive yourself. I love a bleak Tweet about the foolish, ridiculous situations I seem to frequently wander into, but there's only so much social media self pity before you have to dust yourself off and say "fine. Whatever. What's next?"

 
Besides, you have your studies to focus on! Woah, did you forget? Ah, sorry - turns out those highlighters aren't just for drawing cute designs on your face.

Here's a tip: I'm assuming you chose your degree subject because you love it. Try and keep it that way, even if the chemistry seems to fizzle out now and then and you hit rocky patches (especially when you’re 500 words under the word count and you strongly suspect you may actually burst into tears if you have to think about a theorist again) The fact is that you're lumbered with this subject for the long haul, so you may as well find it worth the blood, sweat and tears. I know people who have already sussed that they’ve chosen the wrong subject for them and don't enjoy it at all, but they've decided it's just "easier to stick with". And you know what’s crap? I feel sorry for them. I feel genuinely sorry over the fact that they have chosen to spend the next three years working their sorry arses off for a subject they don’t absolutely love.

So weigh up if it's "love" or "oh my god, what have I done?" as soon as possible. If you think it through and decide your course isn’t for you, try and change courses. If that isn’t possible, I would go as far as to advise you to drop out entirely. See it as a blessing in disguise, re-apply and do something else for a year; find employment or even get out there and travel, if you can. If you think that university won't do much for you in general, don't see it as a "failure". You can learn so much more about the world through alternative means, because university is not the only way of receiving an education.   

Here I am talking about dropping out, when you've only just arrived. You're probably already overwhelmed - nope, I don't believe you if you try to insist you're cool and collected right now. You've just moved away from home and have been dumped into this pool of pissed up randomers who may be your best pals or the banes of your life. You damn well should be overwhelmed! But it will pass in time; freshers week is intense but as the semester begins and the conversations less clouded by whatever neon concoction is on offer at the student union, you will settle into the new pace of life. You might still have moments where you think "I'm meant to study...without being prompted? Christ, what is this meant to be?" (I definitely still do) but you may be surprised by how quickly you become accustomed to it.

Or you might not. Not a nice thought, huh? I know, but it concerns me that nobody else will say it to you and you'll only get the "best years of your lives!!!!" talk. People might still not want to own up to the fact, but university might not go as smoothly as you'd like socially; your flatmates might not be your kind of people and you might not meet the best friendship circle you were told you'd basically walk into immediately. That's not a fun situation to be in, believe me I know. Plus, the workload is a step up, the deadlines are usually tighter, the textbooks even thicker and yes, it could become hugely problematic for you. University is fun, sure, but it doesn't come without it's new obstacles.

So this is the most important point I want to make with this post: look after yourself and your mental health. Never feel ashamed, embarrassed or alone in feeling how you do. Do not be afraid to talk to somebody if you don't feel like everything is as hunky-dory as it feels it should be. This is actually the biggest regret I still carry from my first year of university. I was unnecessarily sad and anxious for so long because I felt too embarrassed to confess that I was struggling. Slumping into passivity will only prolong whatever the issue may be, so get in touch with your parents, tutors or a counsellor - most universities even have phone helplines. Seriously, this is actually one mistake you actually can't allow yourself to make. Please know that you are too damn important to compromise your own happiness. I mean it.

But I don't want to leave this letter on a solemn note, because - as I've now had the joy of learning for myself - you should spend the next few years feeling anything but solemn. You should be excited - there might be some nerves thrown in there, too, but you should be bloody well bouncing off the walls. Make sure you make use of the university societies; you'll meet people who you already have things in common with, which is half the battle, really, plus they may have great social events. Sports clubs, student media, choirs and amateur dramatic societies - anything that floats your boat, push yourself out of your circle and go for them. Always try and talk to the people next to you in lectures; they're willing for somebody to extend a hand of friendship just as much as you probably are. Don't shy away from the new opportunities and challenges that lie ahead of you; take your tail out from between your legs and run towards them.

Look after your friends, look after yourself and have a bloody brilliant time.

Now go for a shower and sort yourself out. Like I said - you really do look dreadful.

xxx