Three months ago, after three years of non-stop reading, writing and stressing out, I donned an expensive and painful black cap to collect my first class degree in English. It was one of the most nerve wracking and exciting moments of my life, and I’m so glad I got to that point considering (at various points) I had myself convinced I couldn’t or wouldn’t finish uni.
I had no idea how to feel once I’d graduated. At once I felt proud, relieved, surprised and so unbelievably lost. What on earth was I going to do now that my time in education was finally over?
Turns out, what I did was travel. I’d had a trip to Disney and a trip to Portugal in the pipeline for a while so I was glad, in the post-uni haze, I had something to focus my attention on. It’s weird though, how I went from a place which brings out the child in everyone and then – very soon after – I was back to being an adult.
I’m not going to lie. Growing up is weird. Being on your “own two feet” is such a strange concept in a world that is constantly changing and shifting. It feels terrifying, having to start from square one again.
It’s crazy. When I was just about to finish my time at Liverpool John Moores University, I managed to secure two jobs. I got an internship in uni and a job at the cathedral, too. Annoyingly, these jobs were only short term so – before I knew it – I was back to the start again. Changing my CV, applying for jobs, trying my best to sell myself.
Unfortunately, it feels as if I’m just getting rejection after rejection. It’s a crazy world where your degree doesn’t really matter against who you know or how much experience you have in your field. Of course, I will continue to look for something and (hopefully) a job I might actually like will come along. For now, I’m writing, applying for jobs and spending time with my friends and family.
Naturally, I feel disheartened by my lack of progress but I know it’s not like this forever. So, for now, I’m going to keep productive, keep looking and keep positive.