During my first year at university, I became close to someone I was convinced would still be in my life long after graduation. We met almost by accident, but the friendship quickly became part of my everyday life. We attended lectures together, ate together, shared personal things and became the kind of friends who assumed the other would always be there. Without saying it aloud, I began to imagine the friendship as permanent.
Then there came the big fight. A fight I could hardly believe was happening between my friend and me. It hurt not only because of what happened, but because of who it was happening with. Eventually, things settled down, but the friendship was never the same. The ease we once had was gone, conversations felt different and certain things were left unsaid. For a while, I kept hoping we could return to what we had before. Eventually, I realised I was trying to bring back a version of the relationship that no longer existed.
That experience changed how I thought about relationships. I had always understood that people could leave, but I had not understood that a relationship could be genuine, meaningful and important and still not be permanent. I had assumed that choosing someone as a friend meant, in some way, choosing them for the future. University taught me that those are two very different things.
We choose our friends based on looks, ideology, shared interests and other factors that appeal to us, but choosing someone does not guarantee they will become the person we imagined or remain in our lives forever. Making friends and choosing to let people into our lives means we choose who to trust, who to confide in and who to make room for. Sometimes, depending on the depth of the relationship, it is easy to think of these people, not just as friends, but as family. But choosing someone does not guarantee they will become the person we imagine they will be in our future, or that they will remain in our lives forever. This is one of the difficult lessons many undergraduates learn about relationships in university.
University is often described as a time of freedom, discovery and new beginnings. For many students, it is also the first time they are surrounded by people from different backgrounds, personalities and experiences, with the freedom to decide who they want close to them. Friendships begin, deepen and end in lecture halls, hostels, student organisations, group projects and late-night conversations. As this goes on, we learn something that no orientation programme can fully prepare us for: that choosing someone does not guarantee that they will become the person we expected them to be.
This is where many university relationships become complicated. We often enter them with expectations, sometimes without realising it. We expect our friends to check in, show up when we need them, celebrate our successes and remain loyal when things become difficult. We expect partners to understand us, communicate openly, respect our boundaries and offer the same commitment we give them. These expectations are not necessarily unreasonable. The problem begins when we assume that because we would do something for someone, they will naturally do the same for us.
University brings together people who are still figuring themselves out. Someone may be learning how to communicate, while another is learning how to manage independence. One person may value constant communication, while another is comfortable going days without speaking. One may see friendship as something that requires regular effort, while another sees it as something that remains intact regardless of how often people interact. Neither person is automatically wrong. They may simply have different ideas of what the relationship requires. When those expectations are not communicated, disappointment often fills the gap.
A friend who does not call may be interpreted as someone who does not care. A partner who needs space may be seen as losing interest. Someone who fails to attend an important event may suddenly be tagged as “fake.” Sometimes these interpretations are correct. People can be careless, dishonest, selfish or unwilling to put effort into a relationship. But sometimes we are disappointed not because someone has deliberately failed us, but because they failed to meet a standard they never knew existed.
This is why navigating relationships in university requires learning the difference between expectations and agreements. An expectation is something we assume another person should understand or provide. An agreement is something two people have actually discussed and accepted. That distinction matters. You cannot fairly hold someone accountable for rules they were never aware of. At the same time, communication does not mean lowering every standard. There are things worth expecting from the people we allow into our lives: honesty, respect, consideration, accountability and reciprocity. These values do not require a formal agreement before they matter. The goal is not to become so understanding that we excuse everything. It is to become clear enough to know what we can accept, what we cannot and what needs to be discussed.
When expectations are not met, disappointment begins to creep in. It becomes especially difficult when it forces us to confront the difference between who we thought someone was and who they actually are. Sometimes we are not grieving the person themselves; we are grieving the version of the relationship we imagined. We thought a friendship would last throughout university. We thought a relationship would become something permanent. We thought someone would always choose us, understand us or stand by us. When reality does not match that picture, it can feel like betrayal even when no explicit promise was made.
University can make this particularly difficult because friendships and relationships become deeply connected to everyday life. The person you study with may also be the person you eat with, attend events with and tell your problems to. A romantic partner may become your primary source of emotional support. Losing either can therefore feel like losing part of your routine, your community and sometimes your sense of belonging. Relationships are always evolving, and when they reach their end, it is essential to remember that the time and affection invested were not a mistake. And more importantly, some people accompany us for a particular season. They may teach us things like how to communicate, set boundaries and trust; they can even help us recognise what we need or understand what we should never tolerate from people again. A relationship can be meaningful without being permanent, and a friendship can be genuine and still reach its natural end.
The challenge is learning to accept that relationships can change without turning every ending into a personal failure. You can communicate what you need, explain how someone’s actions affect you and give a relationship room to improve. A relationship can only work when both people are willing to contribute to it. You also have to understand that you cannot control another person’s choices, feelings or willingness to change. Your friends will have other friends. Your partner will have interests, responsibilities and relationships outside of you. People will grow in directions that may not always align with yours. Healthy relationships leave room for individuality rather than demanding constant proof of loyalty.
This also means recognising that you cannot be everything to everyone. A friend may care deeply about you but still have other friendships and interests that require their attention. A partner can love you without being available to meet every emotional need you have. Expecting one person to provide all your companionship, support, reassurance and sense of belonging can place pressure on the relationship that neither person can realistically sustain. Healthy relationships leave room for mistakes, conversations, apologies and growth.
And when you begin to notice signs of a seemingly ‘unhealthy’ relationship, it is important to assess not only whether someone has disappointed you, but what happens afterwards.
Do they take responsibility for their actions or shortcomings?
Do they listen to your point of view and respond to your concerns?
Do they make an effort to repair the damage?
And are you willing to acknowledge when you have contributed to the problem?
The answer may not always be evident, but sometimes it is clear.
If someone repeatedly disregards your boundaries, refuses accountability or makes you feel that maintaining the relationship requires abandoning your values, the relationship may no longer be healthy for you. Not every connection needs to be preserved simply because it once mattered, and that is where acceptance becomes important. People are not projects, and you cannot love someone into becoming the person you imagined.
So perhaps one of the most important lessons university teaches us about relationships is not how to avoid disappointment, but how to understand and accept it. Disappointment can show us where our expectations were unrealistic, where communication was missing or where two people want different things. It can also reveal relationships that are no longer reciprocal.
The answer is not to stop expecting anything from people. It is to expect with awareness, communicate with honesty and pay attention to what people consistently show you. Choose people who respect you, challenge you, support your growth and allow you to be yourself. When a relationship no longer meets those basic conditions, have the courage to accept what it has become rather than holding on to what you hoped it would be.
Choosing someone as your friend does not mean choosing them forever. It means choosing to share a part of your life with them while the relationship remains healthy, characterised by mutual understanding and meaningful impact or contribution. At the time, I thought the biggest lesson was about conflict. Looking back, I think it was really about expectations. I had assumed that choosing someone as a friend meant, in some way, choosing them for the future. I had mistaken the closeness we shared at that point in our lives for a promise that the relationship would remain the same. What I eventually learned was harder but more useful: a relationship can be important without being permanent.
Sometimes people change, circumstances change, or two people simply grow in different directions. Choosing someone means choosing to share a part of your life with them; it does not guarantee that they will become the person you imagined or remain in your life forever. Some people will stay for years, some for a season, and some will teach you something you carry into the relationships that come next. Maturity is knowing the difference and being at peace with it.