The Fresher Diaries, Wks 8/9: The Roads Not Taken

Sometimes I sit at my desk (seriously, I need to get out more – especially in this sun) and wonder if I made the right choice. Not that I'm not enjoying university here. Everything is so magical. But so many things are so far from perfect that I ponder if maybe it would be easier if I'd done something else.

The Sylvia Plath fig tree analogy is my Roman Empire. I've veered off so many compelling paths for some reason or another and I live daily with the emptiness of so much potential energy dispersed into the atmosphere. I do sometimes wish that I could jump across the multiverse and discover which is the most fitting of the lives I've been told I'm destined for.

I could have stayed somewhere safer, familiar. I could have gone somewhere that I knew more people to start with. I could have stayed in Glasgow where most of my classmates remained on into further education. As I tread between the students sprawled across Sallies Quad in this sun, I doubt whether I could find a space for my pattern among the patchwork of identities here. It feels like the place wasn't quite made for me, like my specific shape is oriented the wrong way to fit through the silhouette of the St Andrews local, the fun-loving teenager, the first-class student. I could leave behind the stone that my hair blends into, the sea that matches my eyes, and find somewhere that I don't feel neon among all the stone.

Credit: Louise Millar

I could have tried somewhere that I feel the courses fit me better. I could have gone somewhere I'm told is more rigorous, to one of the best universities in the world. What would have happened if I'd been accepted to Oxford, if I'd gone somewhere that would have drained my bank as well as my time? Where would I end up after that? If I took on a difficult degree, I could spend my studies among centuries of history. I could ditch the books I gushed about on my personal statement and overanalysed in interviews.

I could have gained more life experience. I'm only young, I've got so much time. I could have travelled, worked, studied abroad. I arrived here feeling immature, inexperienced, and frankly stupid - and if anything, what I've learnt here has proven this. There are so many skills everybody else uses so effortlessly, like I'm missing the casual conversation motor to spark the ignition of picture-perfect friend groups.

I could jump start these, spend the best years of my life pushing myself to the point of discomfort every day, to roads where I look behind at every step to check what I've left in my wake. But I'm also so old. All of my years of innocence are behind me and irretrievable. I should have made the most of it whilst I can, explored every decision I regret and go to the 'anywhere else' that I constantly tell myself is better than the place I'm in now.

Credit: Louise Millar

But then I stop typing and realise I experience every one of these stories already. Each insignificant little brain cell tied together couldn't make their way around the concept of me being anywhere other than exactly where I am at this moment in time; sitting on my worn-down wheely chair, three floors distanced from everybody else, facing away from the sunlight blazing through the window, and listening to the slightly insane conversations happening on the grass outside as I give myself repetitive strain injury from typing.

Maybe I should go out more, but my walk along West Sands this morning and my sunglasses lying on my unmade linen sheets next to me signal that this life is beautiful. I can't imagine where I'd be in a different multiverse, because I literally wouldn't be me. I wouldn't have become a full independent human in the same way I have here, I wouldn't have any of the people that bring so much joy into my life, I wouldn't have recovered from any of the colds or sore throats that have literally changed the workings of my body. I would not be the same person, and I wouldn't feel beautiful standing in the shade of something as extraordinary as this microcosm.

There are so many different parallel timelines I could jump into that it's genuinely mind-boggling sometimes. Everyone has a place that's their 'what if', but unfortunately I couldn't count how many I have. In reality, though, I think I'll stick with this one. Say I'm in 'It's a Wonderful Life', but I'm so grateful for this little life in this tiny Scottish town with beaches and history and a busy high street and peaceful walks. The buildings welcome me every time, even if the people won't.

Every time I go back to Glasgow, I start to complain about the urbanity of it all. I'm finally morphing into my true form as a country bumpkin. And, anyway, life's only interesting with a little challenge every so often. I may be leaving Glasgow behind, but there's one phrase I won't stop saying – whit's fur ye'll no go by ye. Everything that's meant for you is coming. You just have to trust.