Winter Is Coming

A new academic year is always accompanied by endless ‘new year, new me’ propositions, a staple of the university experience. This year I will not be sat on my sofa watching ‘Vampire Diaries’ at 3PM on a Tuesday when I should be in my lecture. I will not let my room become the cesspit it inevitably becomes. I will not allow my diet to consist solely of Deliveroo. This year I will not be inducing self-inflicted breakdowns because of my ridiculous procrastination. We reset our expectations, there’ll be highs and lows, good weeks and bad weeks.  

Yet, amongst all these supposed improvements we aspire to make in our lives, every year a huge majority of us still cling to an old hope which we spent most of last year trying to dispel. We convince ourselves that this year we will find ‘the’ one. Well, maybe not ‘the one’, but perhaps ‘a’ one. Coming back in September, this aspiration was evident. It was almost impossible to find a singleton who either hadn’t been, on or was not going on a date the day you bumped into them. Some were lucky, their early-semester dream became a reality – with all the perks that entails. For the majority of us, this year’s endeavours were as (un)successful as Liz Truss’ short stint in Downing Street -though perhaps not quite as catastrophic.  

Whilst the desire to not be alone makes sense, there is also an inherent underlying irrationality. Thanks to Hinge, Tinder, and the trove of dating apps on offer, we have largely seen the selection available to us. There is the chance of taking it further with a friend, but one can only dream. Despite the odds being dramatically stacked against the likelihood of the single cycle changing, we tell ourselves that this year will be different. Why? I think a large part of this is the deep fear many of us have of the long incoming winter, and the loneliness, and subsequent anxiety, which the period tends to entail.  

Summer is the greatest tonic for the fear of loneliness. In fact, summer is a singleton’s time to thrive. There are the long nights, generally better moods, freedom from work, and good weather. Suddenly going to bed and waking up alone doesn’t seem so catastrophic, and endlessly lamenting about your relationship prospects seems rather pathetic. If you add in the copious amounts of rosé and Pimm’s, the general boost in libido and fun nightlife, fears of being single are out the window. Let’s be honest, a ‘cold boy winter’ doesn’t have quite the same ring to it as a ‘hot girl summer’ does, (though I am partial to a sexy scarf). 

However, once you’ve got past Halloween at university, it suddenly hits. The dating pool has dried up again (shock), and deadlines are looming. It's dark at a god awful hour. Whether you’re walking home from the library, the gym, or a night out, the loneliness is abruptly more pronounced. You wake up in arctic conditions and could not be more aware of your own solitude. There will be no New Year's kiss. Christmas lurks as a brief respite, but is quickly countered by the prospect of horrifyingJanuary and February.  

Amidst these rather depressing circumstances, it can be easy to catastrophize. Hours upon hours are spent unpicking every sinew of personality. The eternally pick-me questions of: ‘is it me?’, ‘what’s wrong with me?’, ‘do I need to change?’ are posed. Beyond the slightly trivial, it can also be a difficult time from a mental health perspective. Loneliness and anxiety go hand in hand, so this is no surprise.  

So, what to do? Here is a three-point manifesto for navigating the long-lonely winter. 

Firstly, this year I have decided I am going to try and extricate myself from the chasms of dating apps. These pesky little inventions only function as eternal reminders of my futile singleness. As much as I do enjoy a good prompt, I am going to accept the fact that when Hinge tells me I have run out of potential matches in my radius, it is probably right.  

It is also important to remember that, paradoxically, there is nothing single about being single, especially at university. There are thousands of us, and we should be there to look out for each other. Whilst I am sure some find it easier than others, my drunken conversations in smoking areas would suggest that we all have our moments. So make sure to check in with your friends regularly, as it can be incredibly difficult to tell when they might be having a hard time.

Finally, whilst long-term singleness can bring you down, we must remember the many benefits being single does bring. Winter need not make us celibate, and I am striving to manifest some of that summer magic through the long winter. And remember, if you do find yourself wallowing, there’s always next September…