What Happens After? Words from Someone Who Doesn’t Know.

I guess the best way to encompass what leaving university feels like is a second birth. You’re just thrown into the world. Not only do you not know anything about it, but now you know you don’t know anything. For better & worse. 

Not Knowing, Part 1: Running Away 

By the end of my degree, Bristol felt like home. The city felt like my playground in the most wonderful way, and I was truly comfortable. Because of that, by the end of my degree I knew I wanted to leave.  

I didn’t want to live at home for the rest of my life. I’d moved out once and I felt ready to do it again. I wanted to leave the city for the same reason I came; I wanted to find people, music, and art that resonated with me and that I could learn from. 

I chose places based on couches I could crash on and ended up in Porto, Prague, Berlin, Barcelona, Crato, and Lisbon. All brilliant. All with no plan. This wasn’t a vacation to me; this was a search. The trips were basically me practising what it means to follow my intuition. The lesson I learned was this: 

Recognise yourself amongst the noise of the world and nurture it. 

The post-uni world is full of noise, of advice, of suggestions, of possibilities. Everyone (literally everyone) will try to chime in on what you should do next and though it’s usually out of love, it’s incredibly noisy. Being able to recognise your voice, idea, feeling, or need amongst all of that is invaluable. It seems obvious, but doing it is actually very scary. It’s scary because it means you have to: 1. Recognise yourself/your self and 2. Support it. 

Note, the trick of it is to understand that supporting is not the same as fully knowing where something will lead you. If you feel like something could be interesting to go to or it tickles you in a new way, support it. It won’t always be a life changing experience, but that doesn’t matter. In nurturing these curiosities and opening yourself up, you allow yourself to be okay in not knowing what will happen. So yeah, practise it, learn it, and jump. 

Not Knowing, Part 2: Crying and having fun at the same time 

As life does, everything I had planned before leaving Bristol flopped. My housing plans for London fell through and the job I had secured wasn’t what I expected. Realising I wasn’t interested in the industry my job was part of was mortifying. I had no idea what I was doing, I just knew that it didn’t feel right. By November, I had somehow ended up living in East London with 3 guys I met through Facebook and was fairly unemployed. I was bitter and scared for weeks. 

I’m a person that gets bored easily though, so I got bored of being so stressed and went through the forcing-myself-to-do-something-because-you-can’t-just-not-do-anything phase. Of all the things that you can force yourself to do, I forced myself to have fun. The two things I love most are pictures and music, so I started taking photos and I started a radio course. 

I didn’t feel particularly comfortable in either one of these at first. But I could sense I was curious about these areas, and that’s all I cared about. I still didn’t know what I was doing but it didn’t matter, the outcome was irrelevant. It was just as lovely as it was brutal, and I cried just as much as I smiled. (I still do.) 

I did my first radio show in December, where I played a lot of weird and sick music for an hour, and I’ve been doing photoshoots that I dreamt of doing since I was 12. I have since been invited back to do another show, and I am working towards publishing my own zines and creatively directing photoshoots. It was during this time that I learned the next thing: 

The only person that needs to approve of what you do is yourself, and the only way to truly know if you approve is to do. 

Not simple, not easy. Just remember you don’t need to know what the end goal of what you’re doing is. I found that the best way to go about this is to imagine my 12-year-old self, think about what she would think is cool, and take the steps to be that person. 

Not Knowing, Part 3: idk 

I’ve given you unsolicited advice, I know. I’m sorry. I guess it’s just what I would’ve liked to be told. It might not resonate with you now or ever. Idk. All I know is this: I’m a recent graduate, I work freelance in everything I can, I still crash on couches, and I don’t know what’s going on. 

But now I know it’s okay to not know. 

I know I’ll never really know. 

And that’s kind of how it goes.