Diary of a Gen Z Student: 'I'm okay with how little control I have over what the future holds after university'

Jane Cowan: 'When you’ve spent most of your life in education, it can be hard to conceptualise the fullness of your life afterwards.'

Last week, I officially submitted my final essay for my university degree. I’d like to say I can’t believe how quickly it crept up on me, but really, it felt like it was a long time coming. I submitted my thesis four weeks ago. I realised the jobs I want to apply to probably won’t be too concerned with my college transcript in March. And I’m fairly certain I reached burnout somewhere around reading week.

Basically, I’ve been psychologically finished with my degree for quite a while. The only trouble was my degree was far from finished with me. I had a few more months to endure before I could lay down the crippling weight of Google Scholar being my most-used website. 

More writing essays in the middle of the night, more holding back tears and more pep talks about why studying a subject you’re passionate about will still involve doing things you don’t enjoy.

Luckily, my college friends and I are of a similar (admittedly, somewhat nerdy) ilk. So, while I was suffering through late nights in the library, I could count on the fact I wouldn’t be alone in there. While we were all concerned about getting our study in, our college nights out became playing cards in a pub and ordering one, maybe two drinks, making sure we could all be in bed at a decent hour. And most importantly, ready to reconvene in the library the following morning.

I’ve spent my last semester oscillating between immense stress about the future and consciousness about registering the present moment. I’ve often caught myself in certain moments, thinking about how I could be experiencing something for the last time. The last time I pull an all-nighter in the library. The last time my friends and I sit around and brainstorm essay topics. The last time my friends and I go sea swimming to prevent the mental collapse of whoever needs it that day. 

In those moments, I have a few seconds where everything happening around me is distilled in a very particular way. I am enjoying whatever it is, but I am also lamenting my college experience before it’s actually over. I try to file away the memory as clearly as possible, so aware of how unique university life is.

Jane Cowan: 'I’ve spent my last semester oscillating between immense stress about the future and consciousness about registering the present moment.' Picture: Moya Nolan

Then, on a random Friday at 11am, I submitted my final essay. I was still in my pyjamas, drinking a cup of tea, with the blinds in my room still down. I shut my laptop, had a shower and went outside for a walk. I didn’t really know what to do with myself. I was having my first coffee in months where I wasn’t on a timed break. I even decided it was finally time to get the haircut I hadn’t had time for in months. I called everyone in my family to tell them they were talking to a (pending) university graduate.

It was an odd day. I was relieved at being finished with college in some way. But I was also a little disappointed it didn’t feel as life-altering as I had been anticipating. Of course, when you’re just trying to survive the last few months of academic pressure, you’ll tell yourself that the second you finish, you’ll feel brand new. But that’s not how I have been experiencing it.

Even now, I don’t think I have fully registered the fact I won’t have to write another essay in Trinity’s library. On the day I finished, I wasn’t particularly enthused by my newfound freedom. I was mainly swatting away feelings of trepidation for the future and begging myself to enjoy my first weekend without studying in many months.

Then, I got a text. My brother sent me a photograph of himself and his now wife, signing the legal documents for their marriage in a courthouse in London. And I remembered the day my brother finished college nearly nine years ago. I thought of how little he could have planned for the future at that time, how he had no idea he would soon be married and living in London.

The wedding celebration with family and friends isn’t until next month. But seeing that photo put all of my stress about the future into some well-needed perspective. When you’ve spent most of your life in education, it can be hard to conceptualise the fullness of your life afterwards. And to be okay with how little control you have over what the future holds. 

It’s actually an exciting prospect when you think about it like that.