At the start of the academic year, I stumbled across a feeling of envy I wasn’t expecting. I was at a Freshers’ event for a society I’m on the committee of, and our president, while on the phone with her friend, mentioned that his dad would be coming by. I sat there, confused, for the next fifteen minutes, expecting a middle-aged man to walk through the door. Instead, when his ‘father’ arrived, he was very clearly another student. It was then that it clicked. She had meant his college dad.

To many students, this would have been obvious. I, however, come from a college without a family system. There is a reason for this: as a mature college, it would be strange to have someone in their 40s as the child of a 20-odd-year-old (though I think the situation would be pretty amusing). Still, the logic behind the decision doesn’t stop me from yearning for a college spouse – someone with whom to navigate the ups and downs of university life.

“If I were a Jane Austen character, I would have zero prospects”

Instead, as a second year, I find myself a college spinster – beyond the age of marriage and with no family to recommend me. If I were a Jane Austen character, I would have zero prospects.

But with proposal season now rolling in, I’ve started to imagine what could have been. What would my proposal have been like? Maybe my college spouse would have crossed Sidge at rush hour to find me in the crowd and propose. Or perhaps they would have waited in line at Jack’s – on a sunny weekend day no less – just to source that particular flavour I’ve been dying to try. I doubt it. I know, in reality, most proposals take the form of one friend turning to another and offering a panicked “Should we just get married, then?”. But one can still dream.

Would I have been a good college mum? I know I would have loved having someone to turn to when I was a fresher – maybe I could’ve been that for someone. Could I have helped ease my college children’s anxiety as they embark on the daunting prospect that is Cambridge? At the very least, I could have offered some sage words: warned them of the perils of Bridge Street in tourist season, or informed them about the superiority of Farawainsbury’s.

“I guess it comes down to that old adage, whether it really is better to have loved and lost”

As a history student, my DoS would be horrified if he saw me constructing such a pseudo-history. But maybe that’s the beauty of being a spinster: that the idea of college families can still stay one big, idealised fantasy. I’ve definitely heard a variety of experiences, from parents and children becoming lifelong friends to family members growing estranged. And the importance of collegiate families to Cambridge life is likely overly exaggerated, so I’m better off not feeling pressured to have the perfect family experience. Or maybe I’m not? I guess it comes down to that old adage, whether it really is better to have loved and lost, than not to have loved at all.

Instead of dwelling on a hypothetical past, I should look towards the possibilities of the future. Who knows, there’s still a chance I’ll be adopted as someone’s intercollegiate aunt. It’s also possible I’ll find another spinster willing to elope in a Married at First Sight-style union. I might even come to embrace my singlehood and the freedom it brings. Either way, I’m sure I’ll find a place for myself, whether that’s on my own, or among the messy branches of the collegiate family tree.