❤ Love Letter to Your Thesis 2025 winners! ❤

Today we are sharing our final two Love Letter to Your Thesis winners winning Love Letters:

🤝 Best Break-up Letter – Frances O’Leary

🍋 Most Bittersweet – Anonymous!

Love Letter to Your Thesis 2025 Winners

TDA

Title - You had me at hello (until goodbye)

Thesis, you audacious traitor

where do I begin?

Our journey was like a movie script

without a happy ending.

Remember what was said

when we first met? I do, so let’s recap.

‘Hey’ I called, ‘it’s nice to meet you'.

You said, ‘I'm the (research) gap’.

We talked about marking our footprint

to pave a better world,

we vowed to do a brilliant job

and committed to make it work.

We quickly became the dream team,

setting goals, mapping out ideas.

We confided all our reservations,

including our darkest fears.

But then it began to fall apart

at dinner with a friend,

I gushed over our relationship,

they just sighed and said, ‘oh hen...’.

‘I’m really very sorry,

your thesis is cheating, mate

I’m sure I've seen this exact script

playing out on ResearchGate!’

Panic scrolling upped its tempo,

Google Scholar kept its head.

Bold as brass, 168 pages published

with a Doctor from the Uni of Ed!

Officially, we called it off

marking the end of you and me.

Thank goodness that thesis Tinder

has plenty more fish in the sea!

The author is a final-year PhD student, born and raised in Scotland. She completed her undergraduate degree at the University of Glasgow during a time of personal upheaval, as well as a global pandemic! Seeking a fresh start, she embarked on her PhD journey. Writing has always been a personal outlet, a way to process and reflect, but only recently has she considered sharing her work more widely. This piece marks one of her first steps in doing so. Still nervous about putting her words out into the world, she has chosen to remain anonymous—for now.

Dear Thesis,

I didn’t expect to meet you. Not then, not after everything that had happened. The days before you were a blur of hurt, uncertainty, and shock, struggling to find any semblance of footing in a world that felt irreparably shattered. But then, there you were, what I didn’t know I needed. A hope that maybe, just maybe, I could rebuild.

At first, I didn’t know if I could carry you. Your weight felt crushing at times, pressing down on me when I was already so fragile. I wondered if I had the strength to hold you, to keep up. But you didn’t rush me, you waited. You didn’t demand, you offered. Offering a question here, a spark of curiosity there. Slowly, you taught me how to think again, how to question and wonder, how to see the world through changed eyes. In your pages, I found a structure I hadn’t realised I was missing.

I poured everything into you—my fears, my aspirations, my brokenness. In return, you reflected a version of me I hadn’t known was there, stronger than I’d thought. You became both my sanctuary and my challenge, a place where I could begin to make sense of the chaos. You taught me that improvement isn’t a straight line but a complicated, layered process. Much like the drafts we worked through, I was learning to rewrite my story. You showed me that nothing was harder than what I had already endured.

Now, as I stand on the edge of what once felt impossible, I see you differently. This is the last year we’ll be together, and while I’m scared to face the world without you, I know it’s time. Time to step away from the space we’ve shared. Time to rest. You’ve taught me that healing is not only possible, but real. From pain, I can find purpose. From hurt, I can find the courage to rise again. And that I truly am strong enough to do whatever comes next.

Thank you—for being there when I couldn’t be for myself. For being my refuge when the world was too much. For showing me that from brokenness, something beautiful can emerge.

Forever grateful,
M