from almost quitting to graduating with a first

a reflection on my time at university; how i lost myself, how the smallest kindness helped bring me back, and how i'm leaving with more than just a degree.

photo from pinterest.

on thursday, i found out that i’m graduating university with a first class degree with honours.

did i expect it? absolutely not. i genuinely thought i was scraping a 2:1. the night before results were released, i was spiralling over the possibility of a third. not because i don’t think that’s an achievement (it is) but because i’d always been a high achiever. i was one of those girls in primary school, in secondary, in sixth form always getting top marks. well, almost always. my parents, especially my dad, were very proud of that and after a while it started to become an expectation. to get anything less would’ve disappointed him more than it would’ve disappointed me.

me? i would’ve just sighed in relief that i’d made it through.

you may be wondering why that was the case, why i wasn’t dead set on high achieving once again like i used to. the truth is, university amplified everything about my social anxiety and my neurodivergence. things weren’t structured like they were in school; the pace, the silence, the self-directed nature of it all — it was too loose and unfamiliar. and i don’t think people realise how much of a difference it can make when you don’t see the same faces every day. when you walk into a class knowing who you’ll see sat in front of you, whose voices you’ll hear talking behind you, who you’ll walk out of class with, or how you’ll feel during it. school forces connection, routines, repetition. but at uni, people come and go. your tutors change, your modules shift, attendance isn’t even mandatory (at least at my uni), so no one notices if you’re gone.

the lack of predictability chipped away at me. i didn’t realise how much comfort i found in consistency until it disappeared. even group work, which i dreaded, somehow made things worse. because now it’s forced interaction with completely random people, and why is it that everyone at uni seems so much smarter than you except the people you get grouped with? i’m glad i only had to do that twice.

anyway, not everything was hard. i commuted to uni by car, and that might’ve been my favourite part. 30 minutes of peace, just me, my playlist, and the open road. i love driving, i even had my little rotation of go-to spots in the parking lot. on the walk to campus after parking, there was a bridge over a stunning river i got to cross on the way there. the trees and the waters i’d pass by everyday felt comforting, and of course, being a nature lover, i adored it. it made my heart happy. i miss it already.

beautiful path of trees on my walk to campus.

second year, though, is when everything fell apart. i was tangled up with someone who kept hurting me. my eating disorder resurfaced. my anxiety took over. i’d drive all the way to campus and just sit in the library or cafe with my laptop and a sweet beverage instead of going to class. i stopped attending seminars unless my friends were in them. i was barely keeping up.

i couldn’t pinpoint why things went that way, i think i just… didn’t have it in me. the burnout ran deep. i felt flat, disconnected. like the colour had drained out of everything.

still, i passed. i scraped by. i had to, didn’t i? after all, it was the expectation. but most of my marks were in the 50s and 60s. only one or two firsts, and they didn’t even feel earned. i felt lucky my dad wasn’t asking me about my grades much.

but then summer came. i got an email from uni asking what i wanted to do for my final year. extra modules? a placement? or a dissertation?

i chose the dissertation. of course i did, i like to write. and that one choice shifted everything. slowly, things began to change. my friends were doing dissertations too, so we had the same classes again. i started showing up.

and i’m so glad i did.

our tutor was in her 50s or 60s. she was elegant, stylish, blonde and always in a matching outfit. she wore van cleef jewellery, and her university account’s profile picture was a pair of gorgeous heels. i adored her already. but she was also clear. friendly but no-nonsense. she was golden. she told us what mattered and what didn’t, made everything feel doable. when our supervisors were unreachable, she stepped in. i got a first in that dissertation.

another tutor, the one leading my law focus module, emailed me when i hadn’t attended the first few classes. his tone was warm and friendly. he told me i could come in quietly, that there was no pressure to contribute, no need to speak unless i wanted to. just show up, take your notes, he said. so i did. and when i got there, something sweet happened. a girl called sarah sat next to me, smiled at me, and asked my name. she was soft spoken, just like me. three more girls were chatting nearby. before i knew it, we were all talking and i forgot to feel anxious. i forgot i was scared.

that class became my comfort class. and because of that, i started attending my others too.

third year was a comeback i didn’t expect. not just academically, but in every way. i started eating more again. i was laughing again. going out with my friends more often. i had the strength to walk away from the boy who hurt me. my grades went from low seconds to high seconds and solid firsts. i found God again. i cut off a long-time friend who’d drained me for too long. everything began to feel lighter.

i owe a lot of that to two tutors who made the effort. and to a few girls who looked up when i walked in and smiled instead of staring. people who didn’t know what i’d been through, but were kind anyway.

and i guess that’s what i want this piece to say: the smallest kindness can shift someone’s entire story. you never know what it takes for someone to simply show up. a smile, a gentle nudge, a helpful hand — it can ripple like dominos. you don’t need to be someone’s best friend or lifelong mentor. sometimes, just making someone feel seen is enough.

so no, maybe it’s not dramatic.

maybe it really is true that kindness changes lives. it changed mine.

and now, i’m graduating with a first class degree with honours. i’m proud of myself. for showing up when i didn’t feel like it, for trying again, for believing i could be more than an anxious girl. because i am more, and i still have so much left to give.

🕊️

photo from pinterest.

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love, ru. ♡