Which Way: Leaving home

Student life means some adjustment, says Anna Edgley-Smith

So, you've packed your entire wardrobe, armed yourself with enough lined paper to take a decade's worth of notes, and learned the exact composition of every cocktail known to man. Yet you can't help feeling slightly uneasy. Your mum's crying her eyes out at the thought of you leaving, you haven't a clue how to cook anything more complicated than a cheese sandwich, and you're not at all sure what you're going to say to people after the standard "who are you and what are you studying?" conversation. In short, you're leaving your old life behind. And you don't know whether that's wonderful, or utterly terrifying.

For most people going to university or college for the first time, your imagination will never quite reach the reality. For the first time, you will be controlling your own level of study, meeting hundreds of new people in the space of a few days and gaining complete independence. Even if you took a gap year, and already know all about doing your laundry at 3am, there are still surprises ahead. All these changes can be hard to cope with, but they don't have to be.

First of all, brace yourself for the fact that whether you're in halls or a house, you're suddenly going to be living in close proximity to a lot of people you've never met: people whose beliefs, opinions, backgrounds and musical tastes may be in direct opposition to yours. (This last one can be especially aggravating when it's inflicted on you in the early hours.) The key here is not to start panicking too soon. Of course you're not going to remember everyone's names on the first day; of course there will be times when you don't know what to say. Just stick with it, and remember that in a few weeks' time it will feel like you've known some of these people forever.

Meanwhile, of course, you'll be trying to sort out your studies. OK, so they won't exactly seem like a top priority when there are societies to be joined and drinking games to be played, but after a while you might vaguely think about doing a bit of work. It may take you a while to realise it (in some cases, as long as three years), but eventually the truth will dawn: it's up to you whether you succeed or fail. Yes, it's scary, but given the choice between that and a school homework timetable, I know which I'd choose.

Then, of course, there's the wonderous discoveries made when living in a house and thus cooking for yourself. You will notice soon enough that a rotation of beans on toast, cheese on toast and beans on cheese on toast becomes exceedingly dull in a remarkably short space of time. It is at this point that it may be wise to suggest sharing meals with your housemates. If you really can't cook, make a deal: they do all the cooking, you do all the washing up. If that still doesn't work, it might be time to invest in (gasp) a recipe book. You never know - you might find that whipping up a souffle becomes one of your primary pleasures in life.

Finally, don't forget that however skillfully you arrange your life when you're away from home, when you come back you'll automatically return to being a child of the family. This dichotomy between the two worlds you inhabit is often uncomfortable and intensely annoying. But live with it, and enjoy having your food bought and your bed made while it lasts. You'll return to your mouldy bathroom and meals eaten out of the saucepan soon enough.

Anna is a recent maths graduate from Durham University