I had always planned to attend university. I don't really know why, I just know that for me, there was never any other option. It felt like a natural pathway mapped out before me, so I followed it step by step and ended up right here, right now.

For as long as I can remember, learning has been my passion. It may sound cliché, but it's the truth. I remember the excitement I felt every morning, getting dressed and reading for school, eager to immerse myself in the magical realms of numbers, words, and everything in between. I was an explorer; my pencil case was my tool belt, education the uncharted territory I sought to excavate.

I worked my way through Primary School, loving every moment and never faltering. I couldn't wait to reach Secondary school; the big school. At the age of eleven, I was the epitome of bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, and while my love of learning continued to grow, I found that my love of school had peaked. I was overwhelmed by essays and exams, and difficulties in my personal life meant that my attendance fell. I wanted to learn, but I didn't want to learn there. Before long, I was called into the office to discuss my increased number of absences. This was a turning point for me. Not because I was scared about the impending telling-off, but because of the way in which my Head of Year chose to word her reprimand. She told me - a vulnerable fourteen-year-old who, despite my dwindling percentage of attendance, never missed a deadline or declined in my overall grades - that I would never have the opportunity to attend Sixth Form College, let alone University. I became determined to prove her wrong, and so I did.

I attended the University of Southampton in late 2012 after taking a much needed gap year, and deciding on an impromptu course change. My year away from education provided me with a great deal of clarity, and left me realising that I should study a subject that I had always been passionate about. And so I chose to study English. I loved my time at university. I studied a broad range of modules which allowed me to read the likes of Virgil, Austen and Wiesel. I met one of my best friends who I am so lucky to have in my life. My only minor regret? Not leaving home. It just wasn't a financially viable option for me. Still, I spent my days fulfilling the English student stereotype; coffee in one hand, book in the other. That's not to say that it wasn't stressful. There were tantrums and tears when multiple deadlines loomed, and the days never seemed to be long enough, but I look back on the experience with a smile. I look back longing return to much simpler times.

That's the thing about university; once you've graduated, it's the end of the line. Sure, you can continue on to study for an MA, a PGCE and eventually a PhD, but what if you can't afford to do so? I was naive to think that my £27,000 (and increasing) degree would allow me to walk into my dream career in the Publishing and Media sector. I applied for graduate scheme upon graduate scheme, and received letters of regret and rejection in abundance. I remember sitting there, staring at my degree mounted on the wall and thinking:

Eighteen months later I continue to ask myself these questions. Granted, I have a job working full-time in retail, but this isn't what I want to do in the long term. This is not who I want to be. That bright-eyed and bushy-tailed child did not dream of being here. My dreams are much bigger than anyone can comprehend.

So here we are, stuck amidst this crisis, both internally and externally. But I refuse to let it break me. I will keep trying, and I will succeed, regardless of how long it takes me.

Never give up; there are still plenty of people I need to prove wrong... and I will.