Cambridge, like any university, is filled with people who have never met you before. They know nothing about you, and it can be very tempting to try to impress them; to make yourself anew.

If only it worked...

My first week here was incredible: I bounced from group to group introducing myself to everyone like some kind of hyperactive neutrino, trying to make people laugh and become ‘the popular guy’ in college. I’d hurl myself into debates to prove my wit. I’d flirt with everyone. I’d go out every night, thinking that by being where the fun was, people would assume that I was ‘the fun’.

I love first impressions. It is one of the only times where you've got quite a lot of control over what people think of you. You can tell them whatever you like about yourself – I went through a phase of introducing myself as ‘Quentin, from Ecuador’, just because I could. You don’t even have to lie, just be liberal with the truth: you can exaggerate your past achievements; your gap year adventures; your social life – nobody will find out. I think that’s why I enjoy travelling so much – you meet people, you make a first impression, then you never see them again. You can just exist in their memory as ‘that nice guy I met in...’ Unfortunately, the collegiate life doesn't work like this. You are going to be stuck with the people you met in Freshers for at least the next three years.

Annoyingly, our inadequacies will always eventually catch up with us. We get exhausted and stressed – that’s basically the Cambridge experience – and the people around us start to notice a few of the flaws we’re not so proud of. This was a big problem for me.

For one, I was worried that the friends I had made wouldn't like me anymore if they realised I didn't quite live up to the person I’d pretended to be. I tried very hard to keep up the show, but it was all fairly artificial. It was difficult to make strong emotional connections when I essentially didn't trust people to accept the bits of me I wasn't so proud of. It was quite a lonely experience.

Secondly, trying to prove something changed the way I thought about myself – everyone would like to think they don’t care what other people think of them; but I’m fairly sure everyone is in denial. If we present an image to people, sooner or later we’ll have to believe it ourselves. I found this true for both positive and negative impressions – if people thought I was funny, so did I. If people didn't like me, I’d start to doubt myself. It’s also very draining. If you’re always trying to be around people, do sports, join societies, work, and sleep, something’s going to have to give. 

My inevitable personality crisis hit in week six – perhaps it should have been week five, but I stupidly decided to show everyone that week five could not defeat me and maintained the usual level of manic. I essentially ran myself into the ground, got ill, and realised that it was really hard to talk to anyone about it. I wanted to go home, at least my friends there understood me. I got fairly depressed, which only made it worse – it’s very hard to be social and happy when you fundamentally don’t believe in yourself.

I’m not sure my experience is unique either. There are lots of people who try very hard to impress their new peers – and I genuinely admire those who don’t, who just let people take them as they are.

For sure, people do it in different ways – they make themselves out to be party animals, or amazingly sporty, or incredibly intelligent. But why do we do it? I can only speak from person experience, but for me, it was a matter of self-esteem. Cambridge is an extremely prestigious institution filled with incredible and gifted people –I wanted to feel like I was one of them, like I belonged here. In essence, I was attempting to stave off the inferiority complex.

That said, I think it’s perfectly healthy to big yourself up. In many ways, the attributes we exaggerate in ourselves are those that we envy in other people – we’re essentially pushing ourselves to become better. Being ambitious isn't a bad thing in itself. I think it is important to know when to let go though: to be able to admit when you can’t or don’t want to do something. For sure, test your limits, but don’t deny them when you find them – in fact, shout them out for the world to see.