I have always believed September to be a month coated in a nostalgia which my mind cannot quite decide if I find it desirable or simply anxiety inducing. The leap from home to nursery where I was once tangled, hiding around my mother’s legs, to starting secondary school, to now - moving to Scotland. The only difference being I am now a generous 5ft 11” and those mother’s legs are simply not a viable option anymore (sorry Ruthie).
September – a month I wish to forget.
Or is it late August? With each passing year the preparation prior to this mountain of the ninth month, unnervingly gets bigger. What was once a seven-year old Saz picking out a classic pair of velcro shoes and a butterfly pencil case, is now a flurry of nerves standing in the IKEA cushion section. Following a summer of celebrations alongside the bitter-sweet realisation that you have only gone and done it; all those scribbles in your journal saying just get there, just keep going – you will get there. Ah. You are actually going, which means you are now pacing around an IKEA trying to pick out a bed throw and cushion that perfectly describes every inner layer of your personality – I went for an emerald green number, naturally. Yes, it is the realisation that there are no velcro plimsoles in sight – not one single pair (seven-year old me is, still, utterly devastated that the comfort of a plimsole is one we shed in early childhood). And, even Ruthie’s maternal gaze across the IKEA aisle doesn’t quite reassure me that the inevitable is unfolding – I am actually going to move out, emerald green dress cushion or not, she’s heading to Scotland.
Truthfully, with the gift of hindsight these nerves were the unspoken anticipation for the memories and friendships which I had crafted and curated in my mind as a token of reward for every past-paper completed. University soon painted itself to be in my mind a landscape of growth, where creativity, joy, and memories laid themselves out. An intimacy of being understood awaited. I have my trusty journals to thank for that.
I believe this to be the most beautiful thing about September. It is the birth month of new friendships that transform into family before Semester one ends. It is the month that you realise that your tiny, tired single bed can quickly become your refuge, and the clumsy chair that fills almost a half of your room is a haven of friendship where one naively overshares as you paint together a new friendship founded in care. Yes, September reminds us that there is so much space for friendship, love and memories to grow – these flowers may plant themselves among fields of anxiety and uncertainty but it is taking time to remind your brave self to nurture the love present and continue to face each day with an open, honest heart – as this is when your flowers will bloom. September, the season of stepping into you.
Understanding that a new opportunity reminds one that you are only a mosaic of each and every person you have ever met, loved, or liked. Please consider that you have an individual footprint upon each and everyone’s ‘September’. Whether you are the first person one is introduced to as their tongue trips up on the practiced line ‘what course are you on?’, the first set of friendly eyes one catches before a night out, the tired legs one meets in the morning to stumble to breakfast with. Or perhaps, you are someone’s first lonely heart they stay up talking till the morning with, youthful legs intertwined, in hope that this is, in fact, their ‘One Day’ moment (sadly, it never quite is) but hey, we’ve got four years for that. I promise you people notice you – whether they act on it or continue to lean against the walls of a sweaty corridor in hopes that your eyes might meet (both courageous acts) – it is time that people indulge in the gift that is you. The mere mark of you; you will be a name scribbled down in someone’s book as they fold down the edges of the days where they see the beauty of kindness gleaming upon your face. My nervous, excited lil’ fresher you just have to search for the pages where your name lays. To put it more simply, you are already someone’s most favourite page.
In this light, I encourage you to step into the arenas where your voice, values and purpose are offered a stage. Lean into the friendships that breathe compassion and understanding to your inner-workings and inspire you to show up as the most messy, authentic, energised person you were born to be. September, a novelist’s dream. It characterises itself as a blank chapter, waiting to be written, scribbled, doodled, painted upon. All it asks of you, is to step into the fullest version of you; and in return it promises spontaneity, friendship, laughter and growth. A dream, I have found a platform that encourages me to step into a space of vulnerability and share my writing and voice alongside a team that inspires me. I truly thank the wonderfulness that is the University of Edinburgh’s fashion society.
So, my love letter to a fresher is simple. September awaits to be written, and all you have to do is breathe, and show up on that first day as the fullest, loveliest, bravest version of you.
Now finally, a line straight from my journal written the night before starting Uni, as always from me to you.
‘I love you,
now go do us proud.
The hard part is over.
Enjoy yourself – ace it.
Love Saz xxx’
Also, pack a polo neck. We can romanticise Edinburgh as much as we want – but even in September, my word does it get cold.
I am proud of you already Freshers – now, go ace it. And babes, I see you thinking about it – jump into the arena, dive off the racing block and join Fashion Soc.
Sarah Dooley
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