When I first enrolled at a university a few years ago, I was highly motivated.
Wildly determined to do everything differently than when I was at school.
I wanted to learn for the sake of learning, speak new languages, attend sports courses and be active in the student council for my course - in short: I wanted to optimize myself and that far beyond my actual studies.
The days when I was just cramming to pass the next exam and then skilfully pushing everything I learned past my hippocampus into the forgotten folder should be forgotten.
But as determined and sudden as my motivation had come at the beginning of my studies, it disappeared just as quickly.
The rounds of introductions and invitations from the university groups piled up week after week, and the more there were, the more overwhelmed I became.
Should I learn Spanish or Greek?
Go to the university newspaper or the debating club?
Attend yoga classes or indulge in my Harry Potter passion and become a gifted Quidditch player chasing the golden snitch on her broomstick?
The diverse selection of offers made me almost unable to decide on anything.
But to be honest, I have to admit that it wasn't just because I was overwhelmed.
Because in my self-optimization drive I had reckoned without my little pet.
It seems friendly with its soft fur and cute little snub nose.
A curly tail and four furry paws give little idea of the power it can sometimes have over me.
How it demands my attention and keeps me from even thinking about anything else.
It has been my companion for many years.
It sits in the farthest corner of my mind, only to pop out at the worst possible moments, tongue hanging out and a soft grunt.
"Play with me"
it then pant at me with a smile.
And although I should know better, I give myself to it.
Over and over again.
I'm talking about my inner weaker self.
Power yoga and university newspaper
My little buddy had me firmly under control for the first few weeks.
But then I saw my chance.
Because anyone who also carries such a pet around with them knows that it sometimes demands more attention, sometimes less.
On just such a day with rather little bastard activity, I found my inner strength in his weakness.
My first yoga class at university was coming up.
Soon I was sweating every week with twenty other students doing power yoga - once in the routine the bastard was much quieter than usual.
Encouraged by this, it wasn't the only varsity activity I started attending.
Since I was studying journalism, it was an obvious choice to get involved with the university newspaper and to find out what the world of journalism had in store for me.
Many of my fellow students did the same.
The initial overload turned into a way of trying out and learning.
My roommate, a passionate economist, registered with the university management consultancy.
There he was not only confirmed that economics is the right subject for him to study, but also that he already enjoys management consulting much more than studying.
During the first two semesters he worked constantly for the organization, the lectures became secondary.
But what was much more important: he continued to develop personally.
Another friend got her diving license – an option that had never occurred to me before.
After all, I always thought of white Caribbean beaches and huge coral reefs when diving.
Outsmarted once, gained a lot
However, the bastard does not only play his cunning game when it comes to sports, leisure and university commitment.
But also when it comes to doing something to further develop skills for the future profession.
An insanely large selection of potential internships and student jobs, numerous voluntary lectures and seminars and annual job fairs are mixed with the listlessness of the inner bastard.
But an important lesson in outwitting the annoying little pet is: once you have overcome it, after a while you will notice how self-commitment takes on a life of its own and becomes part of everyday life.
Then other important doors can open - for you and your own professional career.
For my part, I wouldn't want to do without the numerous theater performances that I was able to attend free of charge through the university, the programming of a website, writing for the university newspaper and the numerous new acquaintances, both at the university and in my student job.
Bitch, sit down!
Lina von Coburg (22 years old) is a bachelor's student in journalism in Mainz. In addition to her studies, she writes poems, philosophizes about life and thinks about how a prospective journalist can survive.