The struggle to differentiate between being alone and being lonely is a universal one. There’s often a need to fill a void of love with other people. Whenever we hear about self-love or self-care, most of us roll our eyes, reminded of times we were told to have a bubble bath and a cup of tea to feel better. There’s also a social phenomenon that it’s incredibly cringe to do things alone, so even if there’s something we want to do, we’ll either be scrambling to find someone to join us, or miss out entirely.

Before leaving for uni, I decided to go on self-dates, and it was FUN. Did I feel like a social outcast at first, the epitome of Billy no-mates? Yes. I was terrified of going to a cafe, even just to work, alone. I felt out of place among the teenagers going on awkward first dates, the groups of mums having their monthly catch-ups, and the families sitting around tables, fighting over the marshmallows in a hot chocolate. Learning how to do things alone was scary, but it taught me a lot about myself.

“I felt like a social outcast at first, the epitome of Billy no-mates”

However, since coming to Cambridge, it’s been quite difficult to make time for self-dating. I’m either in a lecture, in the library working with people, or enjoying pre-drinks before an impromptu Rumboogie. And then, of course, being in a relationship can create the impression that you don’t need self-dates, because you can just go on dates (a lovely problem to have, I know).

So, I went on a self-date to a formal after my first exam. Formals and I have a weird relationship. I love the dressing up and the cup of tea that’s offered at the end. Crucially, though, I don’t love the food. I’m a fussy eater to my core and would take fast food over fine dining. When formalling with friends or as a date, they love it, because they get twice the amount of food for the price of one meal. So going alone was sure to be interesting.

First things first, I had to clear my debt on Murray Edwards EPOS so I could register a space at formal (this may be my most expensive Varsity article to date, forty whole pounds). There were a whopping 105 spots still available, with only nine people going to formal on 28th May (myself included). It was also set to be on the same date as my first written exam. Either I’ll be toasting to a first or drowning my sorrows — and given the state of revision, I’ll pre-emptively say it’ll be the latter (future Jess here: it was).

So, 28th May rolled around. I finished my exam (no more crown and parliaments under the Tudors and Stuarts!) and got dressed for formal. I had no idea of who was there, what the menu was or how this was going to play out. It’s safe to say that I was regretting this; if I hadn’t already paid I’ll admit I probably would have ditched. I went to the bar and grabbed my name-card, donned with ‘NO SAUCE’ in big red letters, as if to highlight that this person was weird and would cause big problems for the kitchen. With that, I grabbed a much-needed (and well-deserved after my exam) bottle of red wine, and headed to Dome.

“I left Dome, slightly tipsy, still slightly hungry, but full of love”

Imagine my surprise when I found that there were not, in fact, just nine people in attendance, but three full tables of postgrads and alumni, as well as a full high table. I felt lied to. Even the undergraduate table was set for 12 people…you can’t trust anyone nowadays. I was the first to the table, and a few minutes later I was joined by the other undergrads, who asked if they could sit with me. This was also a surprise! They were incredibly lovely and invited me to join in with their conversations, in which I found out they were doing some kind of formal swap. I offered them some wine, because getting through a whole bottle by myself less than a week before my next exam was probably not a good move. They asked me if I do this often, to which I responded: “no”.

The growling of my stomach reminded me that I still didn’t quite know what was going to be put in front of me in the next two hours. Leaning across the table to grab the menu, I saw gazpacho (not for me), chicken with some form of potato, and a fruit tart (also not for me). To me, this was a success; finally, a formal where I can eat something! The conversation and the wine were flowing, and I was even able to line my stomach with formal food! Before I knew it, I had finished my cup of tea, and formal was over. With that, I left Dome, slightly tipsy, still slightly hungry, but full of love.

Despite thinking that this was going to be an utter car crash, I enjoyed getting ready, spending time with myself again, and making new friends. If you have a spare two hours, I would recommend taking yourself out on a self-date. Unless you’re a vet or a medic, your time in Cambridge is short and there’s no point waiting around for a mysterious stranger to whisk you off your feet and take you on a date. Be your own mysterious stranger and take yourself to formal. You never know, you might realise the love of your life is closer than you think.