Three months ago, I stood in Terminal 2 at New York’s JFK airport with tears in my eyes wondering what on earth I was doing there. I was holding a 20-pound duffel bag filled with the items extracted from my suitcase when it turned out to be massively over the weight limit, I was already exhausted, and I wanted nothing more than to turn around and go back home.
I had a list of advice from people I loved jotted down in my phone.
First days always suck.
Just get on the plane—that’s the hardest part.
Stay away from Snapchat and all other social media. It’ll only make things harder.
I repeated these lines like a mantra in my head. I checked Snapchat anyway. I bought a bottle of water and tried to breathe. Luckily, by the time I boarded my flight I was so exhausted from crying that I passed out immediately and slept for most of the trip. When I woke up I was rejuvenated and thought I must have made it through the hardest part and from here everything would only get better and better.
I was so, so incredibly wrong.
At first, things were great. Italy is a beautiful country and the little American bubble I was living in made it easy enough to get by knowing practically no Italian. Sure, I was spending money faster than I had planned, but I was having fun. Everyone was nice. It was like freshman year all over again, only better, because it was in Italy.
But even in those first few days there were moments when I felt so incredibly crushed.
After a slightly rough night I woke up feeling not so great, and wanted more than ever to just be able to rehash every detail with my roommate back home, piecing together all of the details between the two of us until everything made sense. She wasn’t there, though, and as I sat at breakfast with my flatmates, I realized I didn’t know what they would think of me if I shared anything going on in my mind. I felt completely alone and lost.
Several weeks later, I began to run out of money. I sat in my bed one night panicked, stressing about weekend trips, about groceries, about the fact that I was in bed panicking instead of out making the most of my experience. I hadn’t budgeted or planned as well as I could have and all of the sudden all of my incredible weekend adventures were tearing me apart. I found myself rethinking if any of them had even been worth it.
Don’t get me wrong, I’ve been incredibly lucky. My parents have been wonderfully supportive and have had my back through every step of this process, but even with that, it was sometimes so much harder than I wanted it to be.
In between all of these moments, and even when things were going really well, I put this pressure on myself to make the most of every moment and to always be doing something exciting and great. I felt guilty anytime I just needed to lie in bed and watch an episode of One Tree Hill or Skype my best friend because I needed to hear her voice. Every time I chose to go to bed early instead of going out, I felt like I was wasting this experience.
The thing is, that’s just life. In real life, no one expects herself to be doing something awesome all the time. That’s simply unrealistic and pretty much the fastest way to get completely burned out.
This is the number one lesson I wish I had figured out sooner, because the fact of the matter is we all have those days. Not everyday, but you have to just let yourself exist on those days and in those moments because that’s all anyone can do.
While I have definitely experienced some new challenges, anxieties, and sadnesses in the past few months, I will never regret that I chose to leave campus and study abroad for a semester. It has been hard for me in ways I never expected, and it has been incredible for me in ways I never expected, and that’s the beauty in it. I am so excited to be going home in a few weeks and returning to my own campus in a few months, but I wouldn’t trade this experience—stress and all—for the world.





















