It’s been a moment since I’ve moved into my flat in London, and I have A LOT to discuss. Let me preface this by saying that as a third year commuter student, my only ‘roommates’ have been the mice that I occasionally hear scurrying in my walls in the winter. Also, you should know that I may be a bit of a neat freak, but in my opinion, anyone who wears their outside clothes in their bed should never be allowed to enter your home.
Anyways, back to moving in, I can confidently say that my experience so far has been..shocking? Confusing? I truly don’t know how to describe it, so instead I’ll write about what stood out the most.
Dirty carpeted floors, showers with no ventilation, and gum stuffed into holes in the wall- all things that I anticipated seeing in my flat after two years of visiting my friends’ dorms at DU, and unfortunately, I was right. Many accommodations are worse than this, yes, but I can still complain! I share a kitchen and hallway with 5 others, one being my close friend from DU who is also studying abroad, and the rest who are first year students.
Oh! Did I mention that my room is right in front of the kitchen door, and right next to the entrance door to the flat? It’s great! On the first night, I heard my flatmates coming in and out of the kitchen, playing chess, making the fire alarm go off (twice), and trying to get into my room from 1 AM until 5 AM- it was an incredibly immersive experience.
For context, this past week was freshers week. It’s an event packed orientation week of sorts; free food, club fairs, and even University-sponsored nights at the club. While other students prioritized going out and meeting others, I, on the other hand, was occupied trying to come to terms with the fact that I will be in London, on my own for the first time, without my family beside me.
My mom helped me move in after we explored Edinburgh the week prior, and the combination of a disruptive first night in my flat alongside the sadness I felt about my mom going back home made the first part of the week very difficult. I started the panic, counting how many weeks I had to endure my living situation before I came home into my cozy, quiet bed. My thoughts began spiraling into feelings of doubt about this entire academic journey. So, I started to do what I do best: talking people’s heads off for reassurance about my anxieties. One person who I complained to, my brother’s girlfriend, told me to “be uncomfortable being comfortable” and at the moment, I hated her advice.
Moving on, one night, I went into the kitchen and asked my flatmate and his friends if they could keep the noise down in the hallway. Not only did they listen, but I even got a text in the morning apologizing for the disturbance. It was a small thing, but it reminded me that not everything — or everyone — is out to get me. There’s kindness here, even if it’s a little hidden under the chaos. I need to keep reminding myself: things could be worse, and they often aren’t as bad as they seem at the moment.
That moment with my flatmate got me thinking – I signed up for this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, and I know I’d regret it if I came home unchanged. Growth doesn’t happen when you’re comfortable, and I have to learn to sit with discomfort instead of running from it. That’s kind of the whole point, and it’s exactly what my brother’s girlfriend was trying to tell me. Studying abroad was never going to be just an extended vacation. If I don’t lean into the challenge, what was the point of coming in the first place?
So I keep reminding myself of everything good: the comfort of my bed, the places I finally get to visit, and the spontaneous catch-ups with my best friends who are studying all across Europe. Just this past weekend, I attended Oktoberfest in Munich with some of my closest friends, a trip I had been eagerly anticipating for months. I still miss my family, but it turns out, there’s less time to be sad when you’re too busy figuring things out. And maybe that’s exactly what I needed.
DU Abroad 