Two-plus years of freedom and socialising give way to burning the midnight oil in the library, and a sense of dread as we are confronted with ‘what comes next?’. Our social circle shrinks down to the local Tesco staff and the Lofi girl in what is objectively the most stressful year. Mental health and wellbeing need to be prioritised, lest the pressure ruin what could be the most rewarding of the years. Because although third year certainly takes its toll, the pride when you see your name on that scroll makes it so worth it. For me, my final year (my fourth, having studied my undergrad in Scotland), was heavily disrupted by COVID-19. Like many students during the pandemic, wrestling with solitude and remote learning nearly brought me to my knees. But as I stood side-by-side with my robe-clad peers on the grounds of Edinburgh Castle, those hardships made the sense of achievement all the sweeter. If you’re in your final year, keep going. It’s worth it.
Ah, first year. A fever dream, you were the best of times, you were the worst of times. With newfound freedom, we explore a new city that we will come to call home, consuming unholy quantities of booze along the way. Ultimately, the First year is about the people you meet; some will become friends for life, others we can’t believe we ever associated with. Most will simply be forgotten. With grades yet to matter, we can let loose before the stakes are raised. But it’s not all sunshine and rainbows. Going out excessively comes at the expense of our physical health and the health of our bank accounts as we flirt with the inevitable overdraft. Moreover, moving away from home - in some cases hundreds of miles away - can bring homesickness and a sense of isolation.
The highest among the undergraduate programmes is the middle child. You’ve found your feet in your new surroundings, and know where to get your three trebs for a tenner. And the academic trials of the third year are still beyond the horizon. But most importantly, your closest friends have become your housemates - possibly even like family. As with most families, tempers might flare (invariably about the bins or the dishes), but if you’re lucky, your dysfunctional little family will be the source of so much love and laughter.
A hot take perhaps, but for those who get the chance, a Masters degree can be the pick of the bunch. If you can get by without the once-essential maintenance loan (the biggest difference), there is so much to be enjoyed. You’ve matured, you’re more self-aware, and you’re studying a subject that genuinely interests you. The hangovers last a bit longer, but enough youth remains that you don’t feel out of place in Luther’s, while you’re equally content with the early night your liver has been begging for. I loved my time as an undergrad but definitely took it for granted. This year, I have squeezed every minute for all its worth, making the most of our amazing selection of clubs and socs where I didn’t before, and it’s been my favourite of the lot. So if you think the fun stops after the third year, think again!