The start of my second year at Cardiff University is quickly approaching. I was on a roll. I bought a beautiful new mirror for my university room, a new organiser, a new duvet cover and managed to stay nothing other than excited. I logged in and checked out the enrolement email to see which dates I need to be at my schools and what I need to do next. I pencilled the dates into the new organiser ready. I booked a hairdressers appointment for before I head back and I worked out exactly how much money I’m going to have to spend each month. I even started googling retail careers, hoping to find someone in Cardiff who wants to hire a Bronwen for the year but doesn’t mind letting her go home for Christmas and Easter.
Then the email arrived confirming my enrolement and I started reading about auditions for operas and choirs and it all just became too real and too scary to face. I felt like my fresher self was back to haunt me and I wanted to hide from the world. I wanted university to go away. Facing my anxiety wasn’t something I wanted to do anymore. The idea of finding myself, conquering life, living independently and having the freedom to do what ever I wanted suddenly wasn’t as appealing as a positive Bronwen would have told you it was.
Going back in two weeks is terrifying. Nothing scares me more, except perhaps the thought of auditioning for operas when I get there. Or the spider that my dad just had to come into my bedroom and save me from.
So I’m not a spider fighter just yet, but I can conquer university by myself, right? There is a braver Bronwen in here somewhere.