Dear past me,

This is your future self talking. Bit weird, I know, but as I’m older and (apparently) wiser, I’m here to guide you. Cambridge is overwhelming, and even though it’s only Freshers’ Week, your imposter syndrome is already kicking in … especially since, despite picking a hill college, you can’t ride a bike. You’re anxious to reinvent yourself and find the friends you never quite had in school. Whether it’s battling homesickness or deciding what to wear to Matriculation, it all feels impossible. Seriously, don’t worry about the outfit: you’ll be teeny in the photo.

“You’ll navigate the cutlery better than you think”

For as long as you can remember (well, Year five), you’ve wanted to go to Oxbridge. Congrats! It took a stupid amount of work but you did it. For maybe the first time ever, you’ll feel proud of yourself. Still, the place is shrouded in mystery. Why all the gowns? Which is the correct fork to eat with? What the hell is a ‘plodge’? You’ll answer these questions within the first week because they’re really not as big and scary as you’d expect. As a northern girl who’s always eaten on the sofa, you’ll navigate the cutlery better than you think (start from the outside in). A plodge, or ‘porters’ lodge’, is home to the porters. When you need any parcels, you’re in a crisis or you’ve just lost your camcard (which you haven’t done so far, touch wood), this will be the place to go. Cambridge thinks it’s so busy being important that it simply does not have time to say words fully. Once you learn this trick, the vocab will be no harder than finding cognates in A Level German.

For the most part, these will be your people. You’ve always been ‘the smart one’ or the girl who’d do everyone else’s homework, but now you just want to be you. Everyone else is in the same boat. Most of them do not have the illustrious spider’s web of posh boy connections that come with the Cambridge student stereotype. Of course, there are always a few, but Cambridge is huge; if you want to avoid certain types of people, you can. Though, if you want my honest advice, I’d recommend talking to them – they’re not so alien, and some of them may become your closest friends. You’ll lose count of the amount people you’ve asked “What college are you at?“, “What course are you doing?” and “Where are you from?”, but don’t fear: it’s a rite of passage. Conversations will eventually leave Revs loos and become meaningful again.

“Learning the lingo will be no harder than finding cognates in A Level German”

Speaking of, let’s talk clubbing. After 18 years of studying, you’re thinking that even though now’s the time to ‘become cool’ (whatever that means), you’re not about to fulfil the ‘Geordie Shore girl’ stereotype. Past me, not only does that scream internalised misogyny, but Cambridge nightlife is hardly on par with Nottingham or Newcastle. That’s not to say it won’t be fun, it just means the club is rarely the night’s highlight. Instead, it’s the pres with girls who offer cheap wine and digital cameras. It’s the smell of van chips on the way home, as you stumble down the cobbled streets. More importantly, it’s the Thursday debrief as you analyse every event that unfolded. Cambridge clubbing won’t be as glamorous as you imagined, but it’ll still be fun – as a silly fresh, you’re entitled to that.

Outside of the club, let me give you some serious advice: call your parents. Just because you’ve craved independence since Year 12 doesn’t mean it’s wrong to miss them, and they miss you just as much. That being said, DO NOT go home in the first term. Those eight weeks might feel like eight years, but I promise you that that November train will only make things worse. Instead, try to keep yourself busy and get out of your room. The more memories you make, the less time you have to dwell on home nostalgia. If it gets too much, and the homesickness turns to something more dark and lonely, there are so many people and places you can turn to in Cambridge. You’re paying nine grand a year, so make the most of the resources on offer.

“You’re paying nine grand a year, so make the most of the resources on offer”

It is Cambridge. I know I’m stating the obvious, but take that in. You know that word is synonymous with hard work, sleepless nights and a to-do list that will end as soon as Sisyphus gets to the top of the hill. The brevity of Freshers’ Week means you’ll experience your first lecture on the very first day, 10am on a Thursday to be exact. As a history student, your lectures will take place in something resembling a classroom, with tens of seats rather than hundreds. Also as a history student, your six weekly contact hours means you have plenty of time to do your assigned readings. Before you feel incapacitated by the number of pages you have to read, you’ll be given plenty of advice on how to read (yes, this is the first year of university, not primary school) and how to write an essay. A weekly essay of 1500 words is manageable; just think how many essays you did across three A Levels a week. Make sure you work hard and get your reading done, but also take a break; you can’t run on nothing. As anxiety-inducing as it may seem, asking for help or an extension is entirely normal and necessary when you’re struggling. Your supervisor was sitting on your side of the room once.

I won’t leave you hanging, you’re going to be fine. It’s almost as if you’ve gotten through every other stressful thing in your life … ?! There will be tough moments, sure, but welcome to Cambridge! You’ll make friends, you’ll write essay upon essay, and you’ll still be wobbly on a bike. But guess what? It’ll all be okay. I promise.

With love,

Your third-year self (who is desperate to be in your shoes again)