As of late, I have been all nerves. The reason? In just over a week, I will be skipping town to study abroad, and the imminency of it all is terrifying.

Of course, I feel excited more than anything else. Though I love my home school and hometown, I’m excited to take a break from the old and comfortable. I’m also due to be traveling to Bologna, Italy, which is the ideal for an art history major and major foodie, like me.

However, as I've said, all this excitement (and corny idealism) has come to mix with a mild case of terror. This terror— or maybe anxiety is a more apt noun—is something we’ve all experienced; it is that feeling of unease stemming from (a) our all-human penchant for the familiar, and (b) the distaste for the unfamiliar, which often comes in tandem.

Sure, in the face of temporarily living in a new country, such angst is a completely understandable emotion. But like all anxiety, it is also rooted in the irrational and, thus, essentially in existence for the sole purpose of driving this girl unnecessarily crazy.

That being said, it’s time to set the record straight. Here are a few mundane questions and thoughts-to-self that are the main source of my (and probably many other people’s) study abroad nerves…and the reasons why they should be given the boot (no reference to the Italian peninsula intended).

“What if studying abroad just isn’t all it’s cracked up to be?”

Like so many other things in our over-stimulating world, studying abroad is surrounded by myths of grandeur. Instagram, Facebook, and other social media platforms of the like display tons of abroad photos all depicting idyllic landscapes, food, parties, etc. There isn’t a late-night library picture in sight.

I myself have been subject to this media-bound hypnosis. What's more, I have formed study abroad fantasies independently: I have long dreamed of going abroad due to my own interest in art and food. And to top it all off, I also have older siblings who have loaded me up with their own tales of travel, thus making me drink more of the proverbial kool-aid.

However, the pre-departure nerves have brought out my inner realist, a snide little creature that loves nothing more than to put me in my place: “You can’t expect such high stakes to be met,” it says. Of course, my innate reaction is to shut this pessimistic mantra up, with a nonchalant “It will be great!” But I have come to realize that Realist is actually a good guy to keep around, as a reminder of the facts:

Studying abroad is chock-full of many wonderful, once-in-a-lifetime opportunities, to be sure. However, it is no cake walk, nor is it a vacation. You are there to learn. (It's not called study abroad for nothing.) You will go to class, despite what pictures might tell you, and in exposing yourself to a new culture (which is arguably the most valuable aspect of the abroad experience), you will have to remove yourself from the box you know and love.

Especially in the most immersive of programs, some level of shock and discomfort will inevitably hit you in any number of situations. Thus, while it is important to think of the positive that will undoubtedly come your way, a little realism is necessary for softening the blow of any potential instance of imperfection.

“What if I don’t catch onto the language?”

This relates to the more general question of, “What have I gotten myself into?”

Language, I would think, is one of the main stressors when it comes to studying abroad. However, for me, it is a particularly impactful one because my program is pretty much as immersive as it gets: for five months, I will be taking classes solely in Italian and (wait for it) living with an Italian roommate.

Now, this is all well, and good, and enriching... save one important detail: I’ve only taken a year of Italian, making me the least experienced student on the trip. Cue the panic attack: I envision myself scraping by in my classes and communicating almost exclusively through meaningful eye contact for at least the first month of my experience. I also will probably do a whole lot of nodding along the way (think of the whiplash).

What eases my mind is the thought that I have chosen immersion for a reason: I want to get to know Italy as closely as I can, and throwing myself into the language head-on will help me get there. Returning to the thoughts of my good friend Realist, I recognize that I will probably not catch onto speaking right away. However, for a type A like me, it will be a valuable lesson in laughing at oneself and taking one step at a time.

“I’ll probably miss campus.”

This statement is also related to the, “What have I gotten myself into?” question. And much like the other stressors mentioned in this essay, it can be remedied by a healthy dose of positivity and realism.

Honestly, I do not doubt that I will miss campus. I love my college, and my friends, and my yearly routine of extracurriculars and classes: these things represent my box, and the thought of them will likely bring me FOMO on the regular.

However, at the same time, nothing is perfect. Sophomore year was a stressful two semesters, and studying abroad will likely give me the departure and release that I didn’t know I needed. I will meet new people, from new schools, even new countries, and live in an environment drastically different from the high-strung one to which I have become accustomed. I will be more independent than I ever have, and I will have to deal with the ups and the downs to the best of my own ability.

For the next five months, life might be pleasing or terrifying, reassuring or disconcerting, perfectly comfortable or nothing I would expect. Accepting all possible adjectives is the best I can do.