My leave of absence did not begin with a thought-out plan.

During the fall of my sophomore year, I knew that continuing as if everything was fine was not the right decision. Taking time away felt daunting, and I hesitated to follow through, but staying without addressing what I needed felt even more daunting.  

My leave came after a series of conversations and questions with both friends and advisors. I realized that I needed time to grapple with existing mental health issues I could no longer put on hold. Taking a break from Harvard was not something I had considered for myself, but I also didn’t know that leaving with the expectation that I’d eventually return was an option.  

That gray area ended up being more normal than I assumed. The college treats a leave of absence, or gap semester, as an ordinary thing to do. Harvard's guidance on considering leave lists family, work, personal projects, health and many other reasons students step away. Knowing this didn’t make the decision to leave any easier, but it helped me treat it less like a failure and more like what it was. An intentionally built path for students whose schooling doesn't always fit neatly into four uninterrupted years.

Oddly enough, taking the leave required much less effort from me than the decision itself. My first meeting was with my Resident Dean, the administrator who oversees students’ academic progress and wellbeing. I slumped down into the chair in her office with no plan for what was next. I was relieved to learn that the purpose of the meeting was to lay the earliest foundation of what my time away would look like. I left feeling somewhat lighter if not yet excited.  

After that it was the more practical side of the process. Housing had to be cancelled. I had to think about health insurance and understand the financial aid policy on a leave of absence (students are eligible for up to eight semesters of aid, so leaving partway through a semester can mean later petitioning for a full final one). International students meet with the Harvard International Office. Although none of this is difficult, it is dependent on time, and with preparation from my dean it was much easier to navigate.  

The hardest part to accept was leaving Harvard itself. Students on leave move off campus and step back from everything Harvard-related. I was frequently more worried about what I was leaving behind than about my future.

After taking about a month to settle back home, I began working at a local animal hospital in North Carolina. My days became entirely predictable. Helping with appointments, lots of cleaning, working alongside veterinarians, doing whatever needed to be done. I left classrooms and office hours for twelve-hour shifts and wagging tails. The work wasn’t glamorous, but it was honest and most days I appreciated the rhythm.  

The time also allowed me the chance to travel. I visited a Harvard friend and their family in Chicago and took a few trips for no reason other than having the time. Near the end of the year, as a gift to myself, I booked a two-week solo trip to Iceland – my first time traveling internationally. It is only now that I can say that my trip to Iceland reflected much of the year away itself: unfamiliar but ultimately far less daunting than I had expected.

The flexibility around your time at Harvard begins before you even arrive on campus for your first fall. Every year, around 100 admitted students defer their enrollment for a year for reasons similar to leaves; work, travel, projects. To me, deferments and leave of absence’s reflect the same philosophy. There isn’t a “correct” timeline through college, and Harvard recognizes that.  

Not so shocking, Harvard did not change in the year that I was away in the way that I thought it would. I spent a chunk of my year wondering what I was missing instead of thinking about what was still here for me: walking through the square, eating in the dining hall, and seeing acquaintances between classes. My first few days back reeked of nostalgia, but I appreciated it all from a different perspective.  

Overall, the leave wasn’t easy, it didn’t make me a different person, and I wonder where I’d be if I hadn’t taken one. But when I returned, I was more stable, prepared, and became intentional about how I wanted to spend my time.  

Coming back was its own relief. You reach out to your Resident Dean and Academic Coordinator to let them know that you wish to return (generally by early February for fall or mid-October for the spring), tell financial aid you’re on your way, and request your on-campus housing. After spending so much time deliberating a leave, I appreciated how easy it was to pick up where I’d left off. The college also eases students' reintegration, connecting returners with resources like the Academic Resource Center and Counseling and Mental Health Services.  

If there’s anything to take anyway from my experience, it is to know these options exist before you ever need them and that there is nothing wrong with taking a break. Whether you’re an admitted student thinking about a gap year or a current student considering a leave, it starts with a conversation. Your Resident Dean, the Dean of Students Office, the Financial Aid Office, the International Office, and the people behind these spaces are there for these moments.  

I did not know this was a path that existed. Now it’s one of the first things I tell students when they ask about my Harvard experience. A leave of absence or deferment won’t feel like the right plan for everyone, but everyone should know that if life doesn’t unfold according to plan, Harvard has built room for that too.