When my DoS asked me how I spend my free time outside of work, I wasn’t really sure what to say. Sitting in a circle in his living room with my coursemates while his toddler competed with the dog for our attention, I hear tales from my peers about the wonderfully productive ways they’ve managed to integrate themselves in Cambridge. From captaining sport clubs to heading obscure society committees, it seems everybody is up to something. My turn soon arrived, and the only thing I could think to mention was a recent viewing of ’The Room’ I’d attended at a college film soc event. To tell the truth, it was just as an excuse to explore an unknown college and get to throw plastic spoons at a screen with some pals. This answer didn’t seem to be what my DoS was looking for, and it wasn’t until that moment that I realised quite how unproductive I felt in comparison to my peers; or rather, how ‘unsuccessful’ I was at university.

Being someone who never really found an extracurricular that stuck as a kid, I came to university as a bit of a blank slate. I’ve always been someone that tries something for a little bit, only to quickly give it up as I move onto whatever captures my fancy next. Past examples include: the embroidery habit I picked up in lockdown, the tap dancing lessons I took when I was 7, and the 6 hour training session I attended at the university canoe club before coming far too close to death-by-drowning during a slip-deck test. After that rather unfortunate experience, I immediately abandoned the £40 year-membership I’d invested in. And trust me when I say: this list is far from exhaustive. It covers only a fraction of all my desperate attempts to find a hobby over my 20 years of existence- let alone the past year and a half at university.

“In a place like Cambridge, it’s hard to ignore that feeling that you’re constantly trying to catch up with everyone else”

The problem with listing things as above is that it definitely contributes towards my impostor syndrome. In a place like Cambridge, it’s hard to ignore that feeling that you’re constantly trying to catch up with everyone else, and while I admire my friends for their talents and interests, it’s easy to feel left behind when you haven’t found your own passions to focus on. But then again, the people I’m comparing myself to have likely been engaged in their hobbies for most of their childhoods . For instance, it makes sense to captain a football team when you’ve been playing since you were 5; but less so when you’re picking it up for the first time as an unfit 19 year old who hasn’t seen a football since she was 5.

I haven’t even really stopped myself to ask if these are hobbies I’m actually interested in, or if I just want one for the sake of having one. In fact, isn’t doing ‘unproductive’ things like showing up to Astronomy Soc talks just to leave early to steal the free donuts (please forgive me for this) one of the things that actually allow me to enjoy university? Perhaps I’m wrong to look for a passion, or maybe I’m going about it in the wrong way. Or, maybe I don’t need to occupy a particular ‘niche’ in Cambridge in order to fit in. What if doing whatever seems fun to me in the moment is exactly what I’m supposed to do? In this way, I can find whatever it is that makes me tick, and it’ll all just work itself out in the end. Right?

“Sure, maybe founding a zine or convincing Dua Lipa to talk at the Cambridge Union sounds more impressive than spending your evening peeling off bottle labels”

There isn’t a checklist for confirming you’ve ‘experienced Cambridge’, so there’s no way to tell if you’re doing it ‘right’. Sure, maybe founding a zine or convincing Dua Lipa to talk at the Cambridge Union sounds more impressive than spending your evening peeling off bottle labels to collect for your friend’s pinboard rubbish colour wheel (don’t ask), but I guess that isn’t really the point. Perhaps just trying things out here and there for the heck of it and surviving your way through university without being kicked out is enough to qualify.

So, while I’m trying to focus this year on embracing a more directionless existence, that doesn’t mean ditching any attempts to follow whatever seems to pique my interest. If anything, it means the opposite; I’m still looking for hobbies, but I’m trying to take the pressure off this time. If I want to write an article detailing all my thought rambles, despite being a STEM student and having absolutely no right to jump into the world of journalism, then so be it. If I want to operate cameras to see ADC shows in-person for free, then fab. I don’t need to dedicate my life to journalism or the thespian scene in order to enjoy taking part. Nothing needs to make sense and there’s no pressure to do anything, so I guess the only thing left is to just have fun. Having said that, I’m still not sure how I could have explained that to my DoS. At the end of the day, though, as long as I pass my degree and make it out with some fond memories, then it wasn’t all for nothing.