I still remember sitting in my bedroom back home, staring at the acceptance email from University of Nottingham. September. That’s when I’d be moving to England. Alone. I’d spent months researching, comparing programs, and honestly — I was terrified. But deciding to study abroad in University of Nottingham ended up being the career move that changed my entire trajectory.

My mom knocked on the door. “Did you hear back?”

“Yeah. I got in.”

She smiled. I didn’t. Because suddenly this whole study abroad thing felt… real. Too real. I’d worked with study abroad consultants in University of Nottingham applications through StudyIn — they’d helped me navigate the whole mess of applications, visa paperwork, and course selections. But now that the acceptance was actually here? I was panicking.

The First Week Was Honestly Terrible

Nobody tells you how weird it feels to not know where anything is. The grocery store. The bus routes. Which building your lecture is actually in because apparently “Trent Building” and “Portland Building” look identical when you’re lost.

I showed up to my first seminar fifteen minutes late, out of breath, apologizing to like twenty students who all looked completely comfortable. They probably weren’t. But they looked at it.

That night I called my best friend back home. “I think I made a mistake.”

“It’s been three days.”

“I know.”

She laughed. Told me to give it a month. I said okay but didn’t really believe her.

Then Something Shifted

Week three, maybe? I was sitting in the library — which is massive by the way, unnecessarily huge — trying to finish a reading I should’ve done two days earlier. This girl sat down across from me. Japanese, I think. Or Korean. I never actually asked, which now feels rude.

“You’re in Professor Malik’s class, right?”

I nodded.

“Did you understand anything he said about the Keynesian model?”

“Absolutely not.”

We both started laughing. And then we just… worked together for the next three hours. We didn’t even exchange names until we were leaving. Her name was Hana. She became one of my closest friends that year.

That’s the thing about being international students — everyone’s a little lost. I’m a little homesick. I am a little confused about British coins and why the weather changes six times a day. It bonds you faster than normal friendships. There’s no time to be polite or surface-level when you’re both trying to figure out how to register with a GP and whether “tea” means actual tea or dinner.

The Part Nobody Warns You About

Around November, things got hard. Not academically… well, yeah, academically too. But mostly it was the distance. Missing things. My cousin’s wedding. My dad’s birthday. My dog — which sounds silly but I missed him so much it hurt.

I’d scroll through photos from home and feel this weird tightness in my chest. Everyone’s lives were continuing without me. Which is obvious. Of course they were. But knowing it and feeling it are different things.

One of my flatmates — Emma, from Manchester — found me crying in the kitchen at like 2 AM. I was embarrassed. I tried to laugh it off.

“Homesick?” she asked.

“Yeah. Stupid, right?”

“Nah. My friend who’s studying in Australia feels the same way. Says it comes in waves.”

She made us both tea. Actual tea. And we sat there talking about nothing important until I felt okay again. That’s when I realized something — it’s not about never feeling homesick. It’s about finding people who get it when you do.

Career Fair Day (Or: When I Stopped Panicking About the Future)

Second semester. The university was hosting this massive career fair. I almost didn’t go. It felt pointless. Like, who’s going to hire an international student with no UK experience and average grades?

But Hana dragged me. Literally grabbed my arm and pulled me toward the hall.

It was chaos. Hundreds of students. Booths everywhere. Companies I’d actually heard of — Deloitte, PwC, Unilever. They were there recruiting. At our university. Talking to us.

I walked up to one booth. Some financial consulting firms. The recruiter asked about my degree, my interests, whether I’d done any internships. I said no to the internship part, expecting him to lose interest.

Instead he said, “That’s fine. We run a spring insight program specifically for second-years. You should apply.”

Just like that. No judgment. No “sorry, we only hire people with five internships already.”

I applied that night. Got accepted six weeks later. And that three-day insight program turned into a summer internship offer, which eventually turned into a graduate job offer before I even finished my final year.

All because I let my friend drag me to a career fair I almost skipped.

The Friends You Don’t Expect

By third year, my friend group was this weird mix of people I never would’ve met otherwise. Hana from Korea. Carlos from Mexico. Aisha from Nigeria. James from Liverpool. Emma, the local who somehow became an honorary international student because she hung out with us so much.

We’d meet at this terrible pub near campus — cheap drinks, sticky floors, but it was ours. Every Thursday. We’d complain about assignments, share food from our home countries, argue about football even though most of us didn’t actually care about football.

Carlos taught me how to make proper tacos. I taught everyone how to make my mom’s chicken curry (badly, but they were polite about it). Aisha introduced us all to Afrobeats and suddenly that’s all we listened to.

These people knew me in a way friends back home couldn’t. Because we’d built our lives here together. From scratch. No shared history or high school memories or inside jokes from years ago. Just… now. The present. Building something new.

Graduation Day Felt Surreal

I wore a cap and gown. I walked across the stage. Shook hands with people whose names I’ve already forgotten. My parents flew in for it — first time they’d seen where I actually lived for three years.

My mom cried. My dad took about eight hundred photos. I felt… proud? Sad? Relieved? All of it at once.

After the ceremony, my friends and I sat on the grass outside Trent Building — the same building I got lost trying to find on day one. We didn’t talk much. Just sat there. Taking it in. Knowing we’d probably scatter across different continents in a few months.

“Think we’ll stay in touch?” James asked.

“Definitely,” Emma said.

We all nodded. I wanted to believe it.

Here’s the thing — we did. Group chat’s still active. We’ve visited each other in different countries. Carlos came to my wedding last year. Hana’s getting married next summer and I’m already booking flights.

Because that’s what happens when you go through something this big together. You don’t just forget each other.

What I’d Tell My Younger Self

If I could go back to that nervous kid sitting in his bedroom, staring at the acceptance email…

I’d tell him it’s going to be uncomfortable. Confusing. Sometimes lonely. You’ll get lost constantly. You’ll miss home so much it physically hurts. You’ll question if you made the right choice.

But you’ll also meet people who change your life. You’ll discover you’re braver than you thought. You’ll build a career you’re excited about. You’ll learn how to be homesick and okay at the same time.

And three years later, you’ll sit on a plane heading back home with a degree, a job offer, and a group of friends spread across the world. And you’ll realize — yeah. It was worth it.

Every confusing, difficult, amazing bit of it.

Where I Am Now

I’m back in my home city. Working for that same firm that recruited me at the career fair. My boss is actually a Nottingham alum too — didn’t know that until my second week when I mentioned where I studied and she lit up.

Sometimes I walk past university students here and wonder if they’re thinking about studying abroad. If they’re scared. If they think they’re not qualified enough or brave enough or whatever enough.

I want to tell them — you probably are. And even if you’re not right now, you will be. Because that’s what happens when you push yourself into something uncomfortable. You grow into it.

I still have my Nottingham hoodie. It’s faded now. Too small, honestly. But I keep it in my closet. Because every time I see it, I remember.

That scared kid who showed up fifteen minutes late to his first seminar. Who called his friend crying after three days. Who almost skipped the career fair that changed everything.

And I remember how all of that… somehow turned into the best decision I ever made.