I graduated – then found myself homeless

Thinking of my coursemates celebrating our university graduation, adorned with mortar boards and smiles plastered all round, a pang of sadness washed over me because I wasn’t with them.

I couldn’t face graduation for two main reasons.

One, because the thought of being around hundreds of happy families when I would have no one there to support me would be too psychologically damaging. And two, because I was desperately searching for a place to live.

As an estranged student – someone who does not maintain contact with their parents or former primary carer – I don’t have the luxury of ‘going home’. 

I don’t have a permanent address to hop back to or parents to turn to while I figure out my next move. It’s just me.

This estrangement had a profound impact on my time at university.

I was forced to sell my car on arrival in Durham, which was used as evidence that I was estranged and ensured I got the maximum loan from Student Finance England. But even with the maximum amount, I couldn’t afford to live after paying for rent, food, and textbooks.

So, I got a job as a bartender and ended up spending more time serving drinks than I did in lectures in that first year of university.

Frankly, I could never quite keep up financially throughout my degree and as a result, I decided to take a year out to work full-time and save.

It helped – I saved enough to cover my next two years of living costs – but I’d still have to continue working when I returned so that, upon graduation, I would have enough saved to cover housing and general living costs.

That plan was thwarted, however, by health issues that meant I spent the last two years of my degree suffering immense fatigue and constant illness.

Still, I worked as hard as I could on my studies and, against the odds, managed to finish top of my cohort in both my second and third year. 

Towards the end of my undergrad though, my future living situation became a major concern.

While I’d managed to secure a well-paid graduate job, thanks to doing so well in my course, I’d be required to complete a masters beginning in September. However, I only had accommodation on campus until the beginning of July.

Even with my new employer providing grant funding to help me get on my feet, I still faced being homeless for two months.

That’s how, in June, I found myself sending emails and trawling websites from my hospital bed – after needing an operation – trying to secure a new place to live.

High on pain killers, I began doomscrolling letting sites for London accommodation and I quickly realised that the renting situation was bleaker than my health predicament. 

My choices? A studio, which was really a shed with a bed in it, listed for £1,300 per month. A room in an abandoned warehouse for £800 per month. Or a shared room with a stranger on the outskirts of London for £400 per month. 

Thankfully, not long after returning home from the hospital, I struck gold. A friend posted on their Instagram story that they were travelling in August so had a room available for £800 with bills in East London. 

Message sent and room secured, I only needed to find somewhere immediately following my graduation in July. That’s when friends and some family stepped in, offering to let me stay on their couches and in their spare rooms across four weeks.

Despite being very lucky to have this support, not having somewhere of your own is debilitating. While I’m sure nobody would kick me out on the street, I found I was constantly anxious, as I had to rely on others and their generosity to get by.

As for the day of my graduation, I didn’t celebrate.

I avoided social media as much as possible and tried to put the day to the back of my mind – though that was easier said than done.

I’m not alone in missing out on this milestone, though. Many estranged students don’t attend their graduations in part because they find themselves all consumed with housing worries in the run up to it.

Research by Stand Alone – the former estrangement charity – revealed an estranged student even turned to purchasing a tent in case they were unable to afford or find housing following graduation.

On top of that, Centrepoint, the UK’s leading youth homelessness charity, estimated that over 118,000 young people aged 16 to 24 were at risk of or already were homeless between April 2023 and March 2024. That’s a 10% increase compared to the previous financial year. 

While not all of these young people will be students, the end of assured shorthold tenancies – which student accommodation often falls under – was cited as the third highest reason for homelessness. 

But the situation doesn’t need to be so dire for estranged students. 

There are simple measures that the Government can enact that would ease the burden for people like me, things like encouraging universities to allow estranged students to stay in university accommodation following their graduation over the summer.

Even minor increases in the amount estranged students can borrow from the Student Finance England would go a long way to covering costs of guarantor schemes and moving without familial support, and allow students to save for housing deposits for when they graduate. 

In the grand scheme of things, these are modest asks. But they would mean estranged students are more able to reach their full potential.

Today I feel more comfortable but there is still some insecurity.

Most of my belongings are parked up on the outskirts of London and I have no permanent tenancy secured, yet I am actually one of the luckier estranged students I know – many face much worse, without the security of a good job and promised funding.

For those about to enter a similar predicament as me four years ago, know that you are not alone and that you can persevere. It’s tough, but probably easier than what you have been through already if you’re leaving care or find yourself forced to cut contact with family. 

I hope, as we head into the new academic year, we can finally start building decent support to unlock opportunities for those who desperately want to work hard and succeed. 

This piece was originally published on August 24 2025

Do you have a story you’d like to share? Get in touch by emailing jess.austin@metro.co.uk. 

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