So, you share a kitchen, a hallway, maybe even a loo – yet, you seem to get a warmer welcome from the porters. When your housemates are more chaos than companions, daily life can include a showdown or two (Alexa, play The Good, The Bad, The Ugly). I’ve learned the hard way: living with people doesn’t mean you’ll like living with them.

Living with flatmates is pitched as one of those quintessential uni experiences. I pictured midnight chats, spontaneous wine nights, and the occasional kitchen disco. What I got instead? Mysteriously disappearing oat milk and a growing collection of unwashed pans. Not enemies; not exactly best friends. Just two different people forced to co-exist in the same space, with all the civility of the East and the West brokering a ceasefire over the top fridge shelf.

If I had a pound for every time I’ve silently screamed while my flatmate brought their football squad over for breakfast (again), I’d have enough money to move out. But alas, I’m still here. And, while it’s tempting to stage a full-blown kitchen coup, I promise, it is possible to survive. Here are some of my top tips for managing pesky housemates:

“You don’t need to know their life story or even their last name”

Accept that you don’t have to be best friends

No rule in your tenancy agreement says you need to be attached at the hip. Maybe your flatmate was just available when you signed the lease or you were swept up in the forces of fate (otherwise known as accommodation officers). Either way, keeping things polite, respectful, and low-pressure can often save you a lot of disappointment. A friendly ‘hi’ in the corridor is enough. You don’t need to know their life story or even their last name if the connection just isn’t there.

But what to do if you WERE best friends?

Have you ever heard of the second-year curse? It’s real – and it strikes fast. One minute, you and your friend-turned-roommate are laughing over a late-night Gardies, and the next, you’re sharing a house with a roommate-turned-goblin who leaves their dirty socks on the stairs.

They say distance makes the heart grow fonder, but proximity? That can test your patience and your friendship. Suddenly, their quirks are less ‘aww’ and more ‘absolutely not’. You catch yourself grumbling as they snooze through their afternoon lecture, all while you’re nursing a coffee cup, recovering from their late-night (and loud) gatherings.

Here’s the hard truth: if you want to stay friends, you might have to stop living like siblings. Boundaries aren’t just allowed – they’re essential. Be honest, be firm, and don’t be afraid to say when something isn’t working. And sometimes, the kindest thing you can do for a friendship is take a step back. Make time apart feel normal, join a different pub quiz team and accept when it’s time for fresh pastures. You don’t have to live together to love each other, nor the other way around.

Set your boundaries and pick your battles

Once you’ve mentally acclimatised (a word I learnt from DofE but equally applicable) to your emotionally strenuous living arrangement, it’s time for phase two: nipping it in the bud early.

“Some things are worth flagging down (like consistently stealing your fridge space), but others (their off-key Bruno Mars shower solo) are probably not”

Trust me, it’s far easier to bring up fridge politics or noise levels before you’re six months deep into silent resentment and passive-aggressive huffs when your countertop is more crockery than surface. If something bothers you, bring it up calmly. No dramatic confrontation needed. Just a direct conversation. “Hey, would you mind wiping down the counters after you cook?” is far more effective than simmering over a greasy hob for weeks.

Of course, pick your battles. Some things are worth flagging down (like consistently stealing your fridge space), but others (their off-key Bruno Mars shower solo) are probably not. Discerning between the issues that truly affect your quality of life and the ones that are just mildly irritating quirks conserves your energy.

Learn the art of peacekeeping

Phase three is where theory meets practice: time to apply what you have learned with a few small rituals to make everyday life a little more liveable.

Sometimes, extending a small olive branch in the form of a sweet treat (I’m partial to a good Wispa) can smooth over minor grievances. You don’t need to be best mates – just casually kind. It’s surprisingly difficult to stay frosty with someone offering you a biscuit.

Tactical timing also helps. If you know their choir practice starts at 7am, delay your kitchen debut until after they have clattered off with their herbal tea. And if you sense a full-volume FaceTime with their mum is about to erupt mid-meal prep, maybe that’s your cue to remember you love nature and eat outside. Strategic scheduling can go a long way when it comes to holding down the fort (or the flat).

Remember the bright side, and your sense of humour

And now, perhaps the most important piece of advice I can offer and the one thing that’s preserved my peace of mind: perspective.

One day, this will make an excellent story. Maybe not today, whilst you’re scrubbing congealed ketchup off the microwave in despair. But eventually, you’ll laugh about the time all your Tupperware ‘disappeared’, or when your flatmate’s kimchi experiment turned your flat into a biohazard zone.

Living with someone you don’t click with can feel all-consuming if you let it. But here’s the thing: you have a life outside the flat. Friends, societies, pub trips… the more you’re out and about, the less claustrophobic home life becomes. Don’t waste your energy stewing over the recycling bin. Save it for people who make you laugh until you snort, for late-night chips on King’s Parade, and for the group chats that keep you sane. You might not love your flatmate, but you’ve still got a life you’ll love living. You will eventually find people whom you want to spend time with voluntarily. Until then: stock up on your bedroom snacks, perfect your timing, and keep your headphones (and your patience) close at hand. Good luck!