Growth Isn’t a Straight Line: My First Semester.

If someone told me that feeling too much could be part of growing up, I wouldn’t have believed them last year. First semester is just over, and I can’t help but reflect on what a rollercoaster it had been. I started uni determined to focus solely on my studies. I wanted to be an academic weapon. Head down. No distractions. Just grades and discipline. But then I met people. I experienced things that—even though I could have done without—made the semester more memorable, more complicated, and somehow more educational than any lecture.

I helped him and his aunt during school registration once. I didn’t think much of it at the time—just being helpful. But he remembered me. After that, every time he saw me, he greeted me. Consistently. Even when I’d already forgotten about him. One day in the library, I needed a pen. He didn’t have one to lend, but he offered to buy me one anyway. We walked to the school mall together. He bought the pen, then added meat pie and water without me asking. When we stood on the steps outside. I noticed something on his lip and picked it off without thinking. He didn’t flinch. Didn’t move away. Just stayed calm, like my hands being close to his face was normal. When we got to the lockers, I went into the library first. He came back just to tell me he was leaving for class. He didn’t disappear.

He’d admitted he’d been watching me. After that, I couldn’t stop thinking about him. I planned outfits. Rehearsed conversations in my head. Bought him yogurt as a thank-you. When I finally gave it to him, he thanked me twice—before class and after. My friend said he stared at me through the entire lecture. And yet, I did nothing. I was scared. Scared of rejection. Scared of being hurt again. Scared that I was reading into kindness. I kept finding reasons not to give him my number. Our schedules didn’t match. He was too shy. Maybe he didn’t actually like me. Eventually, the greetings stopped. We turned into strangers passing each other in hallways. Victor showed me consistent kindness. I showed him fear disguised as caution. Maybe that was all we were ever meant to be. Or maybe I just decided it wasn’t right.

A few days after I finally accepted that Victor and I were nothing, something else happened. I felt a sudden attraction to a masc girl. I’ve always been a tomboy. I’ve always been open to the idea of kissing a girl, just not dating one. But this was different. I’d seen her before, but that day we stood close—too close—and it felt like those love-at-first-sight scenes in movies. When she said hey, her voice gave me butterflies. And now I was left with new questions I hadn’t prepared for. Was I actually gay? Or bi? Was this just some coping mechanism after years of toxic men? Or was this who I really was? I didn’t have answers. Only the uncomfortable realization that university wasn’t just changing how I studied. It was changing how I saw myself.