Embracing the Discomfort of Big Life Changes: Two Perspectives

By Isabella Tsiknas, BA International Relations and Law 28/10/2024

Life itself is marked by a series of changes ranging in scale, and a lot of us are at crossroads. Starting university, finding the right internship, or deciding to further commit to academia brings about high emotional tensions across the board. Oh god, I’m really going to commit years and thousands of pounds to this, I really, really hope this works out! I, for one, can say getting whacked with a £60,000 bill is quite the motivator to show up to lectures. 

Ideally, things always work out. Particularly, social media does a great job of giving the feeling that everyone else in the room is doing better than you, specifically. Jack’s partying in Santorini. Liv’s a model and going to Oxford. You’re slumming it in Dinwiddy where eight someones, only one of which you recognise, walked into your flat kitchen and cleared out your Bacardi. Case in point: I’m a 20 year old first-year. 

Japan seems like a glamorous place on TikTok, but a year and a half living there, I almost got cold feet from seeing the housing of kings - my sharehouse. It had one stove for four people, and sitting on the toilet meant your knees touched the wall. However, it was also the perfect place to be young, broke and figuring out life. The world was larger than the academia pipeline drilled into me. 

Would I live another year like that? No. Was it a wake-up call? Yes. In a world where the pressure’s on for the good university, good salary, and good life, embracing unexpected change keeps your sanity. 

By Nur Al-Hayah Mariam Leadbetter, BA International Relations and Arabic 28/10/2024

Change often arrives at pivotal moments in our lives, reshapes our perspectives and challenges long-held beliefs. At the age of 13, I experienced ‘quite a big’ change when I moved from Abu Dhabi to Brighton. In Abu Dhabi, my education was deeply rooted in the traditions of the Middle East. Arabic lessons, prayer times, and Islamic studies were integral to daily life, while history classes navigated the complex politics of the region with careful sensitivity—particularly regarding topics like Israel. 

Certain subjects, such as sex education, were either approached with discretion or completely steered clear of. Meanwhile, discussions around diversity, gender, and sexuality were virtually absent from the classroom. The focus remained on upholding traditional values and maintaining the societal norms expected within the region’s conservative cultural milieu.

Arriving at Brighton, often dubbed ‘the gay city’ for its progressive, inclusive reputation and vibrant LGBTQIA+ community, felt like stepping into a different world, which radiated openness, individuality, and inclusion. There, sexuality and identity were openly discussed, sex education was candid, and students were encouraged to engage with the topics that, for me, had once been taboo. For someone who had grown up in a conservative educational setting, this newfound openness was liberating. I found myself navigating between two worlds: the deeply structured values of my upbringing and the fluid progressivity of Brighton. By embracing the discomfort of change, I discovered the value of diversity—both in thought and in identity. Adapting to Brighton’s progressive ethos allowed me to appreciate the different ways people choose to live and identify. In many ways, this transition helped me redefine what it means to belong, not just to a place, but to the broader human community.