The Importance of Independence

Scottish Independence has been all over the news recently. Whether or not Scotland should remove itself from the Unions in Great Britain as we know it.

But the independence that I want to talk about today is one free of political intervention, protests and a public vote: our own independence. 

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I thought that I was pretty much independent when I was going through college. I knew that through my life I hadn't had such freedom. Mum had always asked for invitations if I wanted to go to a party - I couldn't go just because someone had told me. There were curfews for sleepovers and I still relied on my parents to pick me up after school activities. 

At college, though I was ferried to and from sixth form on a bus that stopped right outside my house, I felt a bit more in control of myself. I kind of just got on with studying. I felt quite independent but I realised that there was still a little more way to go before I was a proper adult. 

It's funny because, having been at uni has made me realise that I'm more of a child than I ever thought. 

Independence was a bit of a shocker. I've never felt like I've wanted to break away from my family. I've never felt like I've wanted to be alone and do things strictly by myself. I felt independent enough and wasn't ready to metaphorically sever ties.

But going to uni scared me. It appears that too much independence definitely makes you find yourself. I felt alone. Every choice I made was up to me. When did I get up? It didn't matter because it wouldn't affect anyone but me. If I wanted to skip lectures, then who would be on my back? No one, really. If I wanted to eat pot noodle all day every day (and I didn't) then I was free to do so.

Those kinds of menial decisions, however, soon took care of themselves. I went to lectures as a matter of principle, got myself out of bed to make life easier and ate as healthily as I could.

But the real test of my independence was the extra things. The things that didn't have to be done every day. And this was where I became disappointed and frustrated with myself in a way that I never thought I could have.

University has a lot of opportunity - an overwhelming amount, in fact. As we entered the 'bunfight' where all the societies had stalls trying to entice us with 'Ultimate Frisbee', men in teeny tiny speedos and cakes, it was hard to make an informed decision. I saw people saying: "Aw! Yeah sure I'll come to the Quidditch club tryouts!" I wanted to do something cool, as well. I wanted to get myself into a spectacular society.

Moving to England, I had quite forgotten how unappealing being outside can become. When it's raining and cold and windy, home seems so much nicer. I missed most of the tryouts and taster sessions through laziness and reluctance of the cold. I went to a few, like trampolining and became quite interested in Amnesty International society for a while, but I saw people around me solidifying friendships in the clubs that they were joining. They had put themselves out there and now were doing things that they loved.

All my life I had dreamed about: "When I'm older, I'll ..." and now I was older and every dream I had was just waiting for me to say 'yes' and I said: 'Nah I can't be bothered!'

And as clubbing became the highlight of my weeks, I began to question what I was actually doing with my life. I knew that before I could even register it, the year would be over and I would be one step closer to working and one step further away from realising my dreams.

The last term of 1st year I hauled myself into everything I could. I went out with my friends for coffees and ice-cream, went to a few socials that the societies that I had joined were hosting and blogged. I explored Southampton, wrote articles for the newspaper and planned upcoming material, I tried out the free gym classes, went to an AGM and got a position on a committee and ... I had a phenomenal time! The last term of university was my best. I felt like I finally had control of  my life.

For me, my independence could have gone a number of ways. It could most definitely have had me plan to do everything but actually do nothing. I got quite frugal with my money in that first year, wanting to save it all up for nothing in particular. What that meant was that I wasn't actually spending any. In hindsight, it did come in useful because it has given me a head start on my rent for next year which I am very, very happy about, but at the time, it meant that I refused to go out and became, in a sense, greedy and centred around the numbers in my account.

Already, I can see that the mistakes and experiences of the first year have made me more ambitious and determined to do things. It has brought me out of my shell. I'm currently saving to put my money towards useful, practical and fun things: hopefully a 10-week course in German and a solo weekend in Spain. I'm also planning a few more trips around the country to concerts and to the 'Cake and Bake Show' in London which I am super excited about!!

So, in short, I am so so so so SO thankful for my independence, but not because it allowed me to 'run away' from anything or anyone but because it brought me closer to the person at the heart of the matter and gave me more resolve to act upon the opportunities that life has given me. I definitely hope that I manage to do far far more things this year than last and I have challenged myself to write a post at the end of April of 100 things I did between my 19th and 20th birthday! Look out for that one! 

In with the crowd

I've always held such respect for the commuters of London. How one might navigate the underground amongst the pull and tore of the trains and jolts of fellow passengers without their daddy's hand to hold was always something that baffled me. Could a transport network be more complicated? It took me until the age of 15 to understand the local bus system which involved just one change at the central station. 

As I left secondary for sixth form, my classmates were commuting by train everyday to their colleges. So unknown to me was this method of travel that I was constantly petrified of  having to return to England and visit family. Yet, when I arrived at uni, I came with a new sense of independence, maturity and courage. Armed with a debit card that would ensure that in my immediate needs I would never run short of cash on a journey, without my parents own anxiety in my mind and with the determination to be confident and outgoing, I began to anticipate the journeys I would take over the coming year with great excitement. 

I'm a novice on the train. In the past 2 years I've travelled only twice an just once was alone. 

But anxiety deserted me as I left my halls for Clapham this morning. Taking pride in step and with a bubbling excitement of finally being in an ACTUAL house sent me on my way. I had had an idea of what I was going to pack at least a week in advance and with 2 days to go, I was already packed. 

I felt a maternal instinct towards my room. There was so much I needed to do. I took the example from my parents. I locked the window, drew the curtains, turned off the radiator, took out the bins, changed the towels and tidied my whole room. In the warm orange light as I lay to sleep at 11:45pm, I felt proud. Finally, I had a responsibility that was entirely mine. I had a duty to fulfil that wouldn't leave me penalised if I didn't do it. Instead it would teach me something I shouldn't forget next time. 

I went to church that morning, feeling the glee of self pride. I was looking after myself. Doing all the things I'd longed and planned to whilst anticipating my return to England from Dubai. I was being independent. But most importantly I was establishing me - I was being someone without boundaries. 

And so I jumped on the bus at 12pm from Southampton to Eastleigh. I caught the train from Eastleigh to Waterloo, Waterloo to Euston, Euston back up to St Pancras and, finally, St Pancras to Bedford. And I knew it was partly a service at Church that morning and the knowledge that home was a 3,000 mile flight away had led me to do it. To remove the apprehension and take the journey. 

And I have done it. I've commuted the underground with less than 2 grunts of sudden one second panic. I've made my way into London, been through it and got myself out the other side in under 4 hours. As sad as it sounds, I don't think I've ever felt so pleased with myself :D 

Preparing for uni

I've learnt, university doesn't have to be daunting. Undoubtedly, they will be the best years of your life, everyone says - its a theory I've yet to try. 

When I started year 13 this year I didn't want to begin. As far as I was concerned it was the beginning of the end. Everything if ever known about life was about to change. I was about to be exposed to another side of it. Don't get me wrong - I LOVE surprises. But this surprise want something I wanted to deal with. I know how to cook - so that's fine - and I'm more than OK navigating the bus route - but give me any other map and I'm as useful as a broken compass. 

What's the problem? I kept asking myself. It was an answer I couldn't give. I didn't even know if there was an answer. 

I mulled on the prospect.

I tried to convince myself; 

Everyone does it. Lie number one. 

Your parents aren't far away. Lie number two (my parents live in Dubai - 7 hours from England).

This is what you've always been waiting for. Lie number three. 

This definitely wasn't what I had been waiting for. Whenever I thought of my life I kind of skipped uni out. I knew I would go but when I thought of getting older I thought of getting a job, being a mum and wife. Them being a grandma. Life races ahead of me and, although I always assumed I would have a degree under my belt, getting it was never something I'd ever thought about. 

Then here I was; 17 and in my last year of college, with university in the horizon. 

How daunting! 

After a while though, I came to terms with it. 

This is your life, I thought. You can't chill with mum and dad forever. You need this. 

True - I still have those wobbly days when I don't want to go. But they pass and I try my hardest not to bring them up. 

The most important thing I need to go into university with is an optimistic mind. 

So I've started having fun: planning my room design, buying tools - maybe not your idea of fun. But it took my mind away from the day I leave the sand and trade it in for concrete. 

One of the tasks I've been waiting to do since I started packing is create a photo collage. And now I've finally got it done. 

I imagine it will be very useful. Reminding me of where I've been and how I've come may one day help me write those essays and complete the degree. 

Things are looking up and I can't wait. Especially as I've found out that they have a cake decorating society!!! Who ate all the pies?