Saturday, 19 July 2014

Why we shouldn't give up on our dreams


Since, I came back from our holiday (to my home country), I have been struggling concentrating and working on my posts. I have a list of topics I want to write about, but I just can’t come around to sit and transfer my thoughts onto the “white paper”. Something is just missing and I am… just not the same… 

I started this blog thanks to my amazing partner and his incredible support and belief in me and my abilities. He was the one to “plant the seed” in my head and carefully water it for a few months. How he got so determined to do so… The answer lies somewhere between September and December, 2013 - my third trimester of the pregnancy and also the months which I spend retaking a semester at University.

When I realized that I was pregnant, my world stopped spinning for a bit (much longer than a bit.) Everything in my life suddenly got "on hold" and I was absolutely incapable to continue my normal life, e.g. writing my last assignments, for my final year at University. Assignments? Lections? Everything lost any sense and point… I was pregnant! My life was never going to be the same. The life I knew until now was over. Let’s rewind this. Life over. Really?

Yes, really. It felt like it. Because I was last year at Uni and the last thought on my mind was becoming a mother. But I did. And I have been a mother for 6 months . Yay, it’s like living a completely different life. Still… 

The University kind of stopped existing for me, and I stopped existing for the University. The deadlines came and passed, everyone received their marks, my colleagues ecstatically attended the graduation ceremony, where they picked their certificates and made a few pictures for FB..

On the day I was supposed to graduate, I was actually there, at Salford Quays, just not in the Lowry where the ceremony was happening, but in Media City, doing an Open Day, as an Ambassador. 

I survived. The day was gone and I had to learn to live with the idea that I didn’t get to finish my degree. That I came here and spent 3 years for nothing…Until… the following September when a light appeared in the end of the tunnel.

I received this urgent E-mail, that I had to register for the new year or forever lose the chance for graduating from Salford. Was it possible, what was it going to cost me, was I actually going to attend the University for one more whole year? 

*Stress, phone calls, stress, confusion, more phone calls and some E-mails.* I was finally registered for one more year, a semester to be exact, the very same one I’d just failed. The conditions were simple, no attendance of any lectures, just re-submitting all of the final assignments I didn’t submit the first time. Easy-peasy…Right.

I was between the 6th-7th months when I had to start my assignments. I can’t describe the pressure I felt at this moment. I was so far away from writing and any kind of activities involving going back to Uni and writing a 2,000 words essays, designing magazines and filming news packages. The beginning was the hardest. I was asking myself, how do you start doing assignments after not being a student for the past how many months? At least, I had all of the time for writing them and also…growing a bump, and vice versa.           

I should admit it was nerve wracking. I was literally rocking on the bed, with thoughts, racing in my head, whether I should start writing the Essay, or planning the celebrity interview or doing the article for the magazine, I had to personally design. Did I mention I had to go out and do some actual filming and editing? It all felt too much, just impossible. It was October, and I only had till December, the beginning! How did I not appreciate University before, how…?

I was crying, I was shouting, I was giving up, just starting all over again and again… During my meltdowns, there was one person, who kept encouraging me and giving me strength, who never stopped believing in me. We were crying together, we were shouting together, we were writing together…

And December came and so the deadline, and so I submitted all of the assignments. In perfect order. In perfect folders. The. Relieve. Was. Huge.  I couldn’t believe it, it was over, it WAS finally OVER. I just had to wait for results.

And the results came. And then… 

I knew I had made it. All of these years weren’t for nothing; actually they resulted in me graduating. After I failed a semester, in my 3rd year. I still made it. 

I know I am not the first, nor be the last to go through hardships at university, but I am extremely thankful for overcoming them and not giving up. Celebrating my graduation was not so much about celebrating an academic success or the so important certificate, it was about celebrating a very personal achievement. A victory over myself, the circumstances and every challenge on the way. 

Because there were many challenges, but there were also many people who offered me their love, help and support. Some might know, some might not, but I thank them from my heart.


And the day of the ceremony, I was so much looking forward to, finally came. The day I was impatiently waiting for, and preparing months in advance. The same one which passed so fast...I experienced the heavy gown, the funny hat, the handshake and then everything was over, leaving me to question myself whether it really happened or it was just a dream. 

I am sure it happened and I will recall the memories of this beautiful, a little bit stressful and very emotional day, for years to come. But even if the memories of the venue, the ceremony or the gown starts to fade, one thing I will never forget - that we should never lose hope and give up on our dreams. 


                                                      

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