In my final year at Goldsmiths' a poster appeared on the English department noticeboard advertising the chance of a scholarship to go to the US to do an MA at a university there. I overheard another student, who was one of the dimmest and laziest on the course, talking about her plans to apply. I was amazed at her sense of entitlement.
Realistically, I probably would have had a better chance of success than anybody else on the course had I applied, but I didn't. By that stage I was living in the flat where I still live now.
Because of all the hostility I'd faced from the Fat Controller, I felt I'd lost my home at the age of 16. It therefore meant a huge amount to me to have a secure home where I was entitled to be. If I'd gone to America, even if only for a year, I'd have needed to give up the flat. I couldn't do it.