University part 1

Once upon a time I lived in a land far away. One that felt more like home than home. And one that helped me to become the Hannah I am today. Before that land - let's give it it's name: 'New Hall' - I was somebody who felt at odds with the world; like I didn't fit in anywhere. And the way in which I had expressed that sense of not belonging had been for so long internalised (or as some would argue: externalised.)

I tried to go to university at 18. I did. I was so desperate that even though my mum had ruled out the prospect of me going to do theatre studies (which was what I had originally wanted) and I'd agreed (theatre studies made me 'iller' every time we had a performance, and mum couldn't deal with that, and if I'm honest, it wasn't what I wanted either.) Hence, I was in clearing by March of my A level year and initially I'd accepted that I wasn't going to go to university that year. But it became harder and harder to accept that I wouldn't be doing what my friends were doing. They were 'grown ups' and going off to start their lives away from home. I would be at home for another year. As they began to visit universities they had offers from I became more and more envious; even going to Sterling university with my friend Sarah to have a look round, although there was no way on earth I'd go that far from home.

Just before A levels and I'd made my mind up. I was determined: I wanted to do English and Philosophy and I was going to do my best to find an 'early clearing' place. Thus, aside from revising for the oncoming A levels, I spent much of my March and April contacting universities and seeing if they'd accept me as an applicant. It came down to Reading or Hull (I think - it's a while ago now) and, coming from Lincolnshire, the prospect of Hull didn't fill me with excitement so I pursued the Reading option. We even visited Reading and I met with the philosophy tutor and it all seemed to be a very viable and sensible option at the time. Fast forward to the end of September 2000 and I thought I was ready for the challenge but the transition period told a totally different story. I drove to Reading with my mum and her friend Pete; I unpacked; I cried; I cried some more when Mum left; I carried on crying and feeling as anxious as I've ever felt for nearly a week. I tried desperately to settle but 6 days later I'd never felt so out of my comfort zone and so far from home as I did then. I made the decision to go home; I'd failed. The one thing that I'd always thought I would do, I couldn't. I wasn't strong enough to do what I needed to do.

Returning home brought everything into sharp focus. I needed to sort myself out. I knew that I had always wanted to go to university, but I also knew now that I needed to be within easy-reach of home and my family. I worried that I couldn't do it, but I also knew that I had to challenge myself to do it. Fortunately my school were amazing and supported me through all of this even though I was no longer a pupil. My A level teachers and head of sixth couldn't have been more helpful. They encouraged me to apply to do English - my love. And they encouraged me to look at 'top universities'. I'd spent most of my upper 6th trying to avoid "Oxbridge" but I figured when I came back from a failed attempt at university, anything was worth a try. I knew that I wanted to be within an hour and a half hour's drive from home. I knew that I wanted to do English. I knew that I wanted to go to one of 5 universities that I'd picked, not had forced upon me. And I knew that I wasn't going to lose anything by following the advice of school staff, and applying to Cambridge - after all, it was exactly a 90 mile drive from home!

A year previously, I'd refused to even consider it. I didn't want the pressure that it would inevitably impose. I put enough pressure on myself, I didn't need the expectations of a world leading university on me as well as my insidious perfectionism. People said to me 'yes, but you've always been top of the class, you'll hate Oxbridge because you'll just be average.' But given all that, I thought I had little to lose because as long as I had a back up at one of the other universities I'd chosen (York, Sheffield, Nottingham and Leeds) it wouldn't matter. That's not to say it didn't come without its anxieties (hey, when have I ever been free of those!) - and until I had an offer from the one that I really wanted (Nottingham) I felt super anxious about everything else.

In the end, it didn't turn out quite as planned. Whatever does? I didn't get in to Cambridge initially; I was pooled. I'd applied to Clare College and they 'pooled' me; essentially they thought I was Cambridge material but not Clare material! In hindsight, I agree entirely. I don't think I was Clare 'material' - I felt totally out of my depth and super anxious there, whereas I was pulled out of the 'pool' by New Hall (now Murray Edwards) and Girton. Ironically, by the time I was invited back to interview at both of these colleges, I'd put my anxiety to bed. I'd got my offer from Nottingham and that was all that I needed; Cambridge would be a bonus if I got it, but it really didn't matter if I didn't. As a result of this, I was able to approach the interview process more as 'me' - I didn't need to be anything else.

Going to the interview day, I stayed at New Hall the night before and from the moment I walked into the college, I felt at home. It was a dark and cold night, but the college felt comforting and like somewhere I could live. The rooms were comfortable and the environment wasn't old fashioned - quite the opposite - it felt strangely like home. I slept well, unlike when I'd stayed at Clare the night before my interview there. I slept and woke up comfortable, ready to tackle the day. I loved it. It felt like home. I talked passionately about what I'd read with the tutors; I don't think I made total sense, but I loved being able to do this and for once I didn't feel like I was saying something wrong. Even when I went up to Girton, I was able to talk for an hour about the books that I loved and that made up my interview. I think at both of these interviews I conveyed the passion for literature that I wasn't able to at Clare due to nerves.

That evening I journeyed home on the train feeling more comfortable than I'd felt in years. I didn't know if they would give me a place, but I knew that I'd done my best and if it was meant to be it would be: A funny feeling that I'd never felt before. I sat with a girl on the train who'd also been in exactly the same position as me - pooled to New Hall and Girton - and we chatted. We'd both had to make a decision about which college we would choose if both offered us places. I'd not even had a second thought about New Hall - that was my choice - and she'd gone with Girton**. I got off the train with a spring in my step at Newark and my mum picked me up to me gushing about how lovely New Hall was, but that at the end of the day it didn't matter too much as I'd got my offer from my first choice, Nottingham!

Fast forward about 5 days, and I received my offer from New Hall. Opening that envelope I was strangely excited. Nervous, yes, but also excited. Something had changed in my head and I really felt if it was meant to be it would be. I remember shaking, but also feeling that worst case scenario would be that I went to Nottingham, which after all was my first choice, or so I thought! Carefully unpicking that envelope, it felt like the future lay in my hands and I knew the minute I read that I had been offered a place, that it would be my choice and that it would be the best decision I'd made, possibly in my life.

So... I did take the place at New Hall. I worked for the rest of my 'gap year' (not that it ever felt like a planned gap year) at a recruitment consultancy in Lincoln and by the time I went to university at the beginning of October, I felt so much more ready than I'd ever felt before. Yes, I still felt like a child, but as my friend Sarah put it about half way through my time at New Hall, "You don't go to university, you go to a boarding school for adults" - and I think, for me, this was something that worked entirely in my favour.

I'd started this post wanting to write about Cambridge. But what's transpired is about my journey to getting there, which was a massive part of my evolution as a human being and woman. To this day I still feel like I'm growing up, like I'm not quite there yet, but this was such a big part of the journey and one that I remember as if it were yesterday.


** Strangely, half way through my first term at Cambridge I spoke with the the tutor who'd interviewed me for Girton and discovered that I'd been offered a place at Girton too. To this day I still know that I made the best choice for me.