I wrote my last exam of my fourth year at York University on Friday. It should have been my last exam of my undergraduate. I should be attending convocation this year. I should be framing and hanging my degree this winter.  I should be applying to graduate programs. I should be…I should be… I should be. But I’m not. I am not graduating this year, because despite having been at York for four years, I am not done my program. And I won’t be done next year, and I’m not even sure I’ll be done the year after that.

At first, I was incredibly depressed by this realization. As my classmates made plans to take grad photos and celebrated handing in final exams and essays, I made plans to take time off of school and work full-time to pay off my student debt. Despite pulling a fantastic average throughout my entire university career, I felt like I’d failed. I had wanted to complete my program in the prescribed four years, and I hadn’t. I hadn’t achieved what I should have.