MOTIEVE

A month ago, graduation felt so far away. It was this far-off thing I knew was coming but couldn’t actually picture. Now I’m sitting on my bedroom floor surrounded by half-taped boxes, a residence form I’ve read four times, a course registration tab I keep refreshing, and a growing pile of “just in case” purchases. September, somehow, is not far away anymore. September is next month.

I want to be upfront about something before we go any further: this isn’t a “how I survived first year” post. I haven’t survived anything yet. I haven’t stepped foot in a lecture hall as an actual student, haven’t met my roommate in person, haven’t figured out where the good study spots are or which dining hall line moves faster. I don’t have that hindsight, and I’m not going to pretend I do.

What I do have is a few months of research, a stack of conversations with current McMaster Health Science students, and a genuine, sometimes uncomfortable amount of reflection on what my Grade 12 year actually taught me. Honestly, I think that counts for something. Writing this during the in-between, while everything is still unresolved and a little nerve-wracking, feels more useful than writing it after the fact once I’ve forgotten what this part felt like. Hindsight has a way of smoothing over the messy parts, and I’d rather write this while it’s still messy.

So if you’re in this same weird pocket of time (accepted, committed, but not yet there), maybe some of this will be useful. Or at least a little less lonely.

Looking Back at Grade 12

I want to be honest about Grade 12, because I think people gloss over how strange that year actually is.

The application process ate up more mental space than I expected it to. Not just the actual writing and submitting, which was almost the easy part, but the waiting. The stretch between hitting submit and hearing back is this strange limbo where you’re trying to live a normal life while also refreshing an admissions portal like it owes you money. I remember checking my email during a chemistry test. I am not proud of that, but I also don’t think I was alone in it.

Then there’s the comparison spiral. Somebody in your friend group gets an offer before you do, and suddenly your brain decides that means something about your worth as a person. Somebody else casually mentions their average like it’s nothing, and you go home and stress-check your own transcript for the fifth time that day. I wish I could tell you I rose above it. I didn’t, really. I just got better at noticing when I was doing it, which is a smaller, more honest kind of progress.

And near the end, there was burnout. The specific kind that hits after you’ve already gotten your offers but still have to show up every day and pretend second semester senior year matters as much as it used to. It’s a strange motivational cliff. You’re excited about the future and simultaneously running on fumes for the present.

Here’s what I’ve realized, looking back with just enough distance to see it clearly: the things that felt enormous at the time, like one bad test grade, a slightly awkward extracurricular application, or not getting into one specific club, mostly didn’t matter. What mattered more were the quieter things: the teacher who wrote me a genuinely thoughtful reference letter because I’d actually talked to them over the years, the study habits I built almost by accident, the fact that I learned how to ask for help instead of white-knuckling through confusion alone.

If you’re currently in the middle of Grade 12 applications, here’s what I’d actually tell you: your average matters, but it is not the whole story admissions committees or your future self will care about. Build relationships with at least one or two teachers who can speak to you as a person, not just a mark. Don’t wait until the application deadline to figure out what you want to say about yourself. Start that reflection early, because self-insight is slower to develop than you’d think. And try, even when it’s hard, to let go of the comparison instinct. Someone else’s offer letter has zero bearing on yours.

The Weird In-Between Phase

Nobody really prepared me for how strange this specific summer would feel.

I’m not in high school anymore. That part is done: cap tossed, yearbooks signed. But I’m also not a university student yet, not really. I don’t have a class schedule. I don’t know my professors’ names. I have a student number and a residence room assignment, but that’s about as far as it goes. It’s a strange kind of limbo, being between two identities and belonging fully to neither.

Some days I feel genuinely excited, the kind where you catch yourself giddily scrolling through campus photos at midnight. Other days I feel this low hum of impostor syndrome, this quiet voice asking whether I actually belong in a health science program full of people who seem to have had their whole lives figured out since age twelve. And some days it’s both of those feelings at once, which is somehow more exhausting than either one alone.

Talking to current students helped more than I expected. Almost every single one of them, when I asked if they felt ready before starting, laughed and said no. Not in a discouraging way, more like a shared secret. Nobody feels fully ready. The people who seem the most put-together on Instagram are usually just as unsure as everyone else; they’re just better at editing what they show.

So if you’re feeling that same mix of excitement and low-grade dread, I don’t think that means anything is wrong. I think it might just mean you’re paying attention.

Everything I’m Doing Before Move-In Day

Somewhere between “excited” and “mildly panicking,” I decided the best use of my nervous energy was to get organized. Here’s what that’s actually looked like.

• Documents. I made a folder, both physical and digital, with my health card, SIN, immunization records, proof of enrollment, residence contract, and a copy of my ID. Apparently immunization records specifically trip a lot of people up in the first week, so I tracked mine down early rather than scrambling later.

• Banking and budgeting. I opened a student bank account with no monthly fees and set up a simple budget spreadsheet. Nothing fancy, just categories for groceries, textbooks, going out, and a buffer for the inevitable “I forgot I needed this” expense. I also talked to my parents honestly about what they can help with and what I need to cover myself, which was an uncomfortable but necessary conversation.

• Apps and calendars. I downloaded McMaster’s official app along with a general campus map app so I’m not the person visibly lost during the first week of classes. I also built out a shared calendar with move-in dates, orientation events, and registration deadlines, because I’ve already missed one deadline this summer by not writing it down, and I’d like that to be the last time.

• Learning the campus, virtually first. I’ve spent time with the campus map open, tracing the walk from where I think my residence is to where my lecture halls probably are. It won’t be perfect once I’m actually there, but it takes some of the edge off not knowing anything at all.

• Supplies, gradually. Instead of one overwhelming shopping trip, I’ve been picking things up slowly over a few weeks: a load of laundry supplies one week, bedding the next. It’s cheaper, it’s less stressful, and it’s given me time to actually think about what I need instead of panic-buying everything at once.

• Preparing mentally, not just materially. This one matters more than the checklist items, honestly. I’ve been trying to sit with the discomfort of not knowing exactly how things will go, instead of trying to plan every variable out of existence. You can’t shop your way into feeling ready. At some point, you just have to go.

Preparing Your Mind, Not Just Your Suitcase

This is the part that scares me more than the practical logistics, if I’m being fully honest.

Making friends is the big one. I keep hearing that friendships in first year form in unglamorous, unplanned moments: a hallway conversation, a shared confused look during a lecture, someone in your residence asking to split a pizza. Not some cinematic instant-best-friend moment. I’m trying to lower my expectations there, in a healthy way, so I’m not disappointed if it doesn’t happen the way it does in movies.

Homesickness is something I’m expecting, not dreading. From what I’ve read and heard, it tends to show up in waves rather than as one constant feeling, often triggered by something small and specific, like a certain smell, a particular meal, or a random Tuesday that feels harder than the rest for no clear reason.

Independence is going to be a genuine adjustment. Nobody’s going to remind me to do laundry or check that I’ve eaten an actual meal. That freedom is exciting, but it’s also its own kind of responsibility I haven’t fully had to carry before.

Time management in university is apparently nothing like high school. There are fewer scheduled hours, but significantly more expected of you in the time you do have. I’m trying to go in expecting that gap between expectation and reality, rather than being blindsided by it in week three.

And maybe the most important thing I keep reminding myself: I don’t need my whole life figured out before September. I don’t need to know my exact career path, my five-year plan, or who my closest friends will be by Christmas. I just need to show up, stay curious, and let some of it unfold without forcing it.

Building Healthy Habits Before University Starts

I’ve been trying to build a few habits now, while there’s still room to experiment, rather than waiting until classes are already overwhelming to figure out what works.

• Sleep. I’ve been gradually shifting my sleep schedule earlier so it’s closer to something sustainable for 8:30am lectures, instead of trying to fix it cold during the first week of classes. Sleep researchers consistently point to a consistent sleep-wake schedule as one of the most reliable levers for both mood and academic performance, often more so than total hours alone.

• Exercise. Nothing intense, just consistency: walks, some strength training, movement that doesn’t feel like a chore. The evidence on this is pretty consistent too. Regular movement is linked to better stress regulation and sharper focus, which felt like a good enough reason to keep it up once classes start.

• Nutrition and meal prep. I’ve been practicing a few simple, repeatable meals so I’m not relying entirely on dining hall food or takeout by week two. Nothing elaborate, just enough of a foundation that I’m not starting completely from scratch.

• Skincare. Less about aesthetics, more about having one small, non-negotiable routine that stays consistent even on chaotic days. A five-minute anchor point in an otherwise unpredictable schedule.

• Stress management. I’ve been experimenting with journaling and short breathing exercises, mostly because they’re free, quick, and don’t require any special equipment or app subscription.

• Digital organization. I set up a clean folder system for classes before I even have a syllabus, because I know myself, and future-me will not want to build this system while also drowning in actual coursework.

The honest reason I’m doing all of this now is that habits are so much easier to build when your life is calm than when it’s already overwhelming. Trying to start a sleep routine during exam season is a much harder task than starting it in a quiet August.

My Pre-University Reset Checklist

This is the running list I’ve actually been working through:

• Clean up my laptop’s desktop and file structure so it’s not chaos on day one
• Back up my laptop and phone, because I do not trust myself not to lose something important
• Organize four years of phone photos into folders I can actually find things in
• Update my résumé while high school achievements are still fresh in memory
• Build a simple, realistic budget for the semester
• Set up a basic skincare and hygiene routine I can maintain without thinking too hard about it
• Book any outstanding appointments (dentist, doctor, optometrist) before I’m managing this on my own
• Spend deliberate, unrushed time with family and close friends before schedules pull everyone apart
• Read something just for enjoyment, before textbooks take over that mental space entirely
• Actually enjoy this last stretch at home instead of treating it purely as a countdown

Closing Reflection

I don’t know exactly what September holds. I don’t think anyone fully does, no matter how many packing lists they’ve made or budgets they’ve built. University is probably going to be messy in ways I can’t predict yet: exciting, stressful, occasionally overwhelming, and unpredictable in the specific way that only real life is.

But I’d rather walk into it honestly uncertain than pretend I have it all figured out.

I’m planning to document this as it actually happens, not a polished highlight reel, but the real version. The wins and the mistakes. The routines that work and the ones I abandon within a week. Skincare experiments, productivity systems I try and quietly give up on, study methods that either save me or completely fail me, and what residence life actually feels like once I’m living it instead of just picturing it.

If you’re standing in this same in-between season (accepted, packed, nervous, hopeful, not quite sure what comes next), maybe we can figure it out together.