One of the best decision I made was going to a university that was away from home. In the near by towns to where I grew up there were a few university that weren’t too bad, it would have been a lot easier to enroll with them. But I didn’t, instead I made the decision to travel over the border and swap gloomy England for even gloomier Wales.
I expected the move to be hard, so many people had told me that the first few weeks would be the worst, that I’d be so home sick. But this wasn’t the case for me. Sure, on the first night after I’d said goodbye to my mum and brother I did have a little cry, but after that I took to university life extremely well. There wasn’t this painful transition that I’d be warned about by so many. I loved living alone, I loved having control over what I did that day and if I didn’t want to go out then I didn’t have to (unless I had classes).
I was studying for my dream job, I had amazing flatmates and new friends, I loved it. Loneliness wasn’t something that crossed my mind… until it did.