The Mistakes of Freshers Week And How They Pass

The not so disastarous consequences of entering The Bubble

Nothing distorts your sense of scale quite like your first year at St Andrews. In a town this small, it’s alarmingly easy to feel like everything that goes remotely sideways is a disaster. Now, with my first year behind me, I feel just qualified enough to offer some advice, the kind I probably wouldn’t have taken twelve months ago. Still, here are a few things I wish I’d known about moments that felt like absolute storms, but were really just light rain with a bit of dramatic wind.

So, fresher, welcome to ‘The Bubble’. You’ve found yourself in a three-street town, surrounded by cobblestones, aggressively smug seagulls, and a suspicious number of pseudo-euro Americans dressed like they’ve just come back from a semester abroad in Florence. Suddenly, you’re expected to construct an entirely new social life, navigate a strange academic system on a one to twenty point scale (which I still don’t quite understand), and pretend you’re not googling “how to cook rice” at 2am in your communal kitchen that smells like the inside of a shoe. 

Academically, you’re going from IB, AP, or A-Levels micromanagement to a much looser system. A professor says, “do the reading”, and then disappears into the mist. You then check to find out that it’s over 100 pages, single-spaced, in a PDF scanned from 1977. The freedom is great, until you realise no one’s going to chase you if you fall behind. No one cares if you haven’t done the reading or tutorial work…then it’s Week 10 and you’ve retained next to nothing. The academic system here relies on self-regulation more than anything else. Figure out what works for you early on — whether that’s a crazy notes system, the Pomodoro timer, or aggressively over-caffeinated library days. Basically, no one is watching, but future you will be thankful if you keep it together (even a little).

Fashion-wise, I arrived in September with an unfathomable number of suitcases that I magically managed to squeeze into my room. I’d worn a uniform for the past six years and, by eighteen years old, hadn’t yet figured out how to be fashionable at school. Inside those suitcases was clothing that, very quickly, felt borderline offensive to the general aesthetic of St Andrews. I realised that if I had a penny for every micro-scarf, long skirt, cool pair of boots, or studded belt I saw, I wouldn’t have to work another day in my life.

Not to confirm assimilation, but I do now own a few pairs of boots and a few cool-ish belts. Make of that what you will. This isn’t to say abandon your personal style (unless you were like me and wore a Patagonia fleece every day), but let’s just say the fashion culture shock was real, and I did fold faster than expected. Maybe some herd mentality has plagued me. 

You will, at some point, obsess over the wrong things. It’s inevitable. For me, it was things like fashion, friends, classes, the usual suspects. Another key thing to note, and I mean it — the people you hang out with in Week 1 aren’t going to be your friends forever (unless you want them to be). Do not stress about locking in a gigantic lifelong friend group before your first laundry cycle has even finished. Things shift, and that can be a fantastic thing. 

Either way, it’s not a referendum on your social skills. Someone you awkwardly met once might become one of your closest friends three months later. Or not. That random guy you tried to impress on a night out? He might become a close friend, a vague acquaintance, or someone you only smile and wave to in passing.

The next big thing for me was FOMO, which is incredibly real in first year and specifically in first semester. There’s this strange pressure to constantly be doing something — a drinks thing, a hall-organised event you don’t quite want to attend, or a random beach walk in a huge group with some people whose names you only half-know. St Andrews moves at a weirdly intense social pace for a town that has one Pret and a Tesco. It feels like if you’re not out four nights in a row, you're falling behind on some invisible timeline everyone else is secretly following. You’re not, don’t worry.

Some things only become obvious with a bit of hindsight. Like, eat in the dining hall as much as you can and sit with someone new, even if the food is questionable (even if you really, really can’t fathom eating another shepherd’s pie). If you have a plan or a pre, I don’t care if your room is small  — invite more people. Especially if it's a mix of people you can’t really picture in the same room. It doesn’t matter at all 99% of the time. People remember being included. Some of the best nights I had in first year started with completely random groups that, on paper, I didn’t think would work.

If there’s any advice worth giving, it’s just this: give things time. What feels like a storm now is probably just a weather blip. Everyone is too busy trying to figure out how to do laundry on the heinous WashNet app without shrinking their knitwear or losing their whole afternoon. 

You’ll find your people, your rhythm, your way of making it make sense; maybe not all at once, and definitely not in Freshers’ Week, but eventually. Go out as much as possible, especially early on. Say yes to things. Join a really weird society and try something you’ve never tried before. So, Fresher, first year will be sometimes messy, occasionally confusing, and very fun. Don’t waste time overthinking the small stuff. All ‘storms’ in the bubble pass, and half the time, no one even notices.

Illustration by Maya Mason