At U of T, love and labour are two words that do not normally go hand in hand. While we attend an incredibly academic school, should relationships truly take a back seat to everything else? Beyond attending lectures, students often pursue 15-hour library days, grad school applications, coffee chats with professors and industry executives, and part-time jobs. It is clear that productivity is the norm. 

The Varsity interviewed students who (bravely) discussed their romantic and platonic relationships at U of T. Among them, two clear positions emerged: those who admit that school comes above all, and those who believe that relationships should be considered a priority as well. 

Burnout culture leaves no room for relationships

Second-year Rotman Commerce finance and economics students Claire Dixon and Malcolm Austgarden offered their insights on how their lives flip upside down during exam weeks, leaving little room for personal relationships. While this concept may be foreign to other students, especially to those in high school, it is no foreign concept to those who’ve endured the notorious U of T curriculum. 

One thing both Dixon and Austgarden pointed out is that while the schoolwork is indeed rigorous, it may be more of a culture rather than a true lack of time, at least for them. “We feel like we have to just put everything towards our career right now, or else we fall behind, and then there’s no chance for us, because there is a lot of pressure to do the good internships early… that creates [a] lack of attention on relationships,” Austgarden said. 

Dixon enforces Austgarden’s statement by speaking on her own experience in Rotman. “Burnout culture is incredibly normalized, as well as being constantly tied to your school work. I don’t think that’s actually necessary to succeed here, and it isn’t healthy for anyone.” While Dixon noted that she feels she learned how to balance her time relatively well, she added that this kind of balance is rare among her peers. 

In an environment where ambition is quietly rewarded, and rest often feels like a risk, choosing school over relationships can begin to feel less like a choice and more like an unspoken expectation.

Should we ground our relationships in productive activities?

Among students who prioritize relationships is second-year art history and cinema studies double major Zane Hansen. He pointed to a lack of space for conversations about love at U of T. “It’s a very work-hard, play-hard culture,” Hansen said, “but when you’re playing hard, it’s harder to make relationships.” 

He also offered a perspective that complicates what many students describe as one of U of T’s social strengths: the ease of forming relationships through shared schoolwork and academic life. While studying together can create closeness, Hansen suggested that grounding relationships too heavily in productivity may come at a cost. “If academics and professionalism become the basis of all social interaction, it’ll probably make it harder to make a relationship that isn’t based on that,” he said, “you need friends that aren’t work friends.” 

Is there really a lack of time?

Second-year industrial relations and human relations student Lily Rogers spoke similarly about her experience at U of T, and how she feels like a bit of an anomaly, attributing it to her equal emphasis on both socializing and schoolwork. 

“If you meet the right person or someone who could potentially be the right person, it’s not necessarily the best to just assume that it’s not gonna work out because you’re so busy,” said Rogers. In a culture that often frames busyness as a prerequisite for success, Rogers’ perspective challenges the idea that connection must be postponed until life becomes more manageable. 

At U of T, students are surrounded by people chasing similar goals, juggling the same pressures, and imagining comparable futures. We meet in lecture halls, over coffee between classes, and across library tables late at night. Yet still, many of us treat relationships as something to pencil in after midterms, after applications, after life finally slows down. But it is not just a lack of time that gets in the way. 

It is a culture that rewards constant busyness, normalizes burnout, and quietly suggests that rest and connection are optional. If university is one of the few moments where so many like-minded, driven people exist in the same place at the same time, it begs a question — if not now, when? 

Maybe love at U of T is not losing to labour so much as constantly being told to wait till after the next midterm, the next internship, the next degree. Maybe the real challenge isn’t waiting for time for a relationship, but unlearning the idea that it comes second.