By Sofia Athena Roberts, Third Year, Classics
We’re often told by family, teachers, and other well-meaning adults that the friendships we make at university will be the ones that stay with us for life. There's a romantic notion attached. Somewhere between lectures, society events and club nights, we’ll stumble across our forever friends.
It all starts fast. Freshers’ Week throws you into a social whirlwind, a frantic, slightly chaotic energy where everyone’s desperate to find their group and fit in. Just as you begin to feel settled, the conversation suddenly turns to second-year housing. People scramble to lock in friendships before they even know each other’s surnames. I was lucky when I came to Bristol. A few friends from home were staying near me in Stoke Bishop, so there was already some familiarity. I’d also joined a few course group chats beforehand, trying to get ahead of the curve. One of those chats ended up forming a friendship group that has grounded me throughout my time on the course.
In first year, I lived in a flat with forty-five other people. Yes, really. It was socially overwhelming at times, but somehow, we built a sense of community. If you shouted down the hallway, ‘Does anyone have eyeliner?’ you’d have ten offers within five minutes. I’d get a knock on my door at 7pm sharp to go for catered dinner. In second year, we saw each other less, with a few dinners and the odd pub trip, but realistically, it was difficult to keep the group going once we stopped living together. We had different routines and different priorities. We made time for each other when we could.
One of the most grounding friendships I’ve had at university wasn’t with someone I met here. It was with a girl I’ve known since I was eleven. Before starting uni, we vaguely said we’d ‘see each other around,’ not really knowing what to expect. But in those first few weeks, that bond became unexpectedly essential. We looked after each other. We had weekly cake and wine nights, alternating between our rooms, an anchoring ritual. Now, I live with that same girl, a guy I went to sixth form with, and a mutual friend of his. It’s a slightly random group on paper, but it works. We’re close enough that we’ve built our own small traditions. We’ve kept the cake and wine nights, and we now do birthday breakfasts and Christmas karaoke.
Back in sixth form, I craved being part of a friendship group, to have that kind of stability and structure. At uni, I’ve found groups of people who understand me. I always have someone to ask to do something, whether it’s a night out, a film, or just walking into town. I’m glad I took the advice to throw myself into things socially, to be open and make an effort. But I’ve also learned that balance is crucial. Sometimes, the best thing you can do is stay in, read in bed, and skip the three overlapping events you somehow RSVP’d ‘yes’ to, instead of running around like the woman from 27 Dresses.
That said, it hasn’t all been smooth sailing.
Elizabeth Abbott
I’ve come to realise that university friendships, like a lot of things in this phase of life, are fluid. Sometimes they’re seasonal. First Year comes with this pressure to ‘find your people’ straight away, and I was lucky enough to do so. But I’ve also had friendships I thought would last, fall away. I’ve learned how important it is to stick to your values and to recognise when a friendship no longer feels right. If you’ve felt disrespected or undervalued, it’s okay to take a step back. That doesn’t make you difficult. It means you’re paying attention to your own boundaries.
Some friendships will stay with you for life. Others might be short-lived but still meaningful. Either way, every connection shapes you in some way. I think that’s the real takeaway. It’s not about who you’re still friends with by graduation, but about those who gave you the space to grow, whether together or apart.
Featured Image: Epigram / Sofia Athena Roberts
How do you plan to make and keep friends at uni?
