As I enter my senior year at NYU, I find myself reflecting on the biggest challenges and learning curves I’ve faced during my time here. Taking care of my mental health in a chaotic place like New York City is certainly high on that list, so here are a few pieces of advice that I wish I could go back and tell my first-year self.

Advocate for yourself

NYU, thanks to its go-getter culture and sheer size — the class of 2029 boasts about 6,500 alone — will teach you to be your own biggest supporter from day one. But speaking up for yourself isn’t always a natural skill. 

The unwavering competitiveness and drive that define a typical NYU student used to make me feel like the stakes were too high for me to be good enough. My first-year self would often shy away from applying to internships and clubs as I waited for an opportunity less daunting to present itself. 

It was the fall of my sophomore year when I realized that the stakes were never lowering — I just had to be more confident in my ability to jump over them. I was taking a class about the psychology of social justice, and my professor explained that the most empowering therapists know that their clients are always the experts of their own lives and experiences, no matter the context. 

When I applied this concept to myself, I gained the confidence to formulate my own story and put my voice out there, whether it was raising my hand to offer my perspective on challenging psychological concepts or writing my first piece for WSN. Three years later, I’m part of WSN’s management team with aspirations to go to graduate school for mental health counseling — and I couldn’t have done it if I never made the choice to speak up for myself.

The strength and resilience built from practicing self-advocacy is a gift to give yourself sooner rather than later. You know the most about your own abilities and intelligence, and especially in a new environment, advocating for yourself is essential. 

Find your balance

I would be lying if I said that living in New York City wasn’t the main reason I wanted to apply to NYU in the first place. The allure of the culture, nightlife and a famed school like NYU — I had to make the most of it. So naturally, I made it my mission during my first semester to go out with friends every single weekend, force myself out of my comfort zone and avoid having any break time. But spreading myself thin quickly burned me out. Though I didn’t realize it, I wasn’t able to devote more than surface-level energy to my commitments. 

To be frank, I didn’t even fully learn this lesson until my junior year, when I overextended and overworked myself until I fell extremely sick for two months. I was studying for midterms while celebrating a lot of my friends’ 21st birthdays, so I visited the NYU Student Health Center for antibiotics, blood tests and every treatment I could think of. But the only remedy that actually improved my health was taking a week off classes to fly home and rest — really, truly rest.

Although I was hesitant, my professors, friends and parents all understood — and in fact encouraged — the break. I realized that when my body was signaling alarm bells that I needed to rest, I wasn’t a good version of myself at all, both as a friend and a student. And when I got back, I was able to enjoy my classes and friendships rather than seeing everything as a chore that drained the little energy that I had left.

Even if it took a while, I started favoring quality over quantity in every aspect of my life. Not only did I feel better, but my relationships became more meaningful and my grades improved. Balance looks different for everyone, and keeping up with your own self-care — even if it means taking a break from all that New York City has to offer — is a valuable tool to avoid burnout.

Do not act to appease others

NYU boasts over 270 areas of study, more than 300 clubs and an undergraduate population of almost 30,000 without a conventional college campus. You might feel pulled in a million different directions, but you don’t have to say yes to outings and social events just because other people expect you to.

For me, what worked best was letting go of my attachments to big, proximity-formed friend groups. I took a gap semester before my first year, which meant that most of my class had already formed social circles, joined clubs and curated their unique, Instagram-aesthetic versions of life in Manhattan. I couldn’t help but feel like I was already falling behind. The appeal of a large social circle was that it seemingly did all the work of self-discovery for me, and felt like the safest option while I was 3,000 miles away from home with few other connections.

Over time, as life became more serious and I grew dependent on a big friend group for comfort, I realized that my self-worth and identity revolved around six other people. It took creating mental and physical distance from a group and focusing on my college experience to really step into the best version of myself and be defined by my own interests — like psychology, social work and writing — rather than a social circle.

Following a crowd can be fun at first, and can introduce you to amazing people that remain close friends for a long time. But it can also be limiting in the long run. The only way to find the communities that truly fit is by following what actually lights you up, not just what you think should.

A number of confusing questions often arise during your first year: Who am I? Who are my friends? What do I value? What is my purpose? This is a big city, and it’s overwhelming to think that there is a right way to take it all on.

But the truth is, there isn’t. You will make mistakes. You will make friends and lose friends. You will learn new things about yourself. You will feel happy. You will feel sad. You will change with the seasons in ways you won’t expect. And that’s not something to fear, it’s something to embrace.