27/09/2026
𝐀𝐔𝐑𝐔𝐌 𝐋𝐈𝐓 | Kinda Chic to Have Survived the First Term
A sigh of relief.
Finally, the first term is over. A small breath of fresh air after months of deadlines, examinations, presentations, group works, and trying to figure out what we’re doing.
“Have fun with your college life and make a lot of friends,” they say.
And yet here I am—with four missing assignments, an almost failing subject, and 56 new people who have probably heard me complain at least once.
It’s fun, though. Somehow. And we survived.
Well… Did we?
The first term has ended. And that’s just the first part of the whole year.
There were 11:59 PM deadlines we swore we would never miss again, only to find ourselves submitting at 11:58. Activities and assignments we put off until the last possible second. Examinations taken with more hope than preparation. Presentations that left us sitting afterward like retired Thanos, questioning every life decision that led us there.
It wasn’t always pretty. But it was ours. And for the most part, it was fun.
We made new friends. We experienced new things. We laughed at moments we probably shouldn’t have found funny. We made mistakes, learned from them, and sometimes made the same mistakes again because apparently, character development takes time.
We learned to be scared of deadlines. We learned to be nervous before presentations and still stand in front of everyone anyway. We learned that examinations are probably easier when you actually study.
Maybe do study, dear.
And now, here we are, entering the next term—transitioning from freshly vacationed cuhs to bare-faced, zombified, barely-living dawgs.
Funny how a few months can make us feel like completely different people.
But maybe that’s the coolest thing about college. Everyone seems to be surviving a completely different version of it.
We’re all carrying something. Some days, we’re confident. Other days, we’re exhausted.
Sometimes, we know exactly what we’re doing. Sometimes, we’re just pretending we do.
Nobody really has it all figured out. We just keep going.
We complain about the workload, and somehow show up again the next day. Not because we did everything perfectly. But because we kept trying.
And maybe that counts for something.
Maybe surviving the first term was never about having the best grades, finishing everything on time, or knowing exactly where we were headed. Maybe it was about making it through the days we thought we couldn’t.
So, despite whatever crazy thing happened during that first term— we’re still here.
A little tired. A little lost. A little more experienced.
But here. Still here.
And honestly?
That’s kind of chic.
