I was so excited for this summer.

I wrote a whole article on my plans for embracing the summer of me. I had taken a pretty big leap and was getting ready to leave for a two-month stay in Montana to work just outside of Glacier National Park as a restaurant server and bartender in a little hotel. I didn't know anyone, but I'm a good server and have been interested in traveling forever.

Who wouldn't want to do something that they're good at to make crazy money and getting to explore a national park? Sign me up. If you know me, I have big dreams, and this kind of experience is something I'd been working towards for a while. It was going to be great. It was going to be easy because my job was providing accommodations. All I had to do was get there. I wouldn't have a car, but the location assured me it would be no issue. After a car, two planes, and an almost $200 Uber, I made it to a small town outside of the park.

That was basically everything I'd wanted. I ended up leaving 48 hours later.

I don't want to harp on, or name, where I was supposed to be working and living, but I will say that they definitely mislead me about the job and accommodations. They even changed things in my contract, which had already been signed, after I arrived. All of these details were reasons for me to leave, but ultimately, I couldn't shake this terrible feeling in my stomach. I labeled it as homesickness when trying to explain to my confused parents why I was coming home. I was so homesick that I was physically ill. I was nauseous for my entire stay and homecoming because of it, but that didn't make sense. I didn't live at home most of the time, and I had traveled other places for longer amounts of time.

Why was I feeling this way?

After coming back and being able to reflect on my experience, I genuinely believe it was my gut telling me to go home. It wasn't true homesickness, but just my instinct. The stress of having things be completely off the mark of what I was promised and just being in what I felt was a bad situation all added up to this absolute gut feeling. This was not how I wanted to spend my summer, and this was not where I was supposed to be. I came home. This felt like the ultimate defeat. I wanted to be cool and crazy and adventurous. Instead I was unemployed, out a thousand dollars just in travel expenses, and a little lost.

Coming home was honestly devastating. I was gone for such a short amount of time, but it felt like forever. At first, changing my plane ticket and getting out of dodge was a relief, but then it kind of hit me. This big dream that I had planned to fulfill, that I thought was going to kind of change my life, was gone. Sure, it was really that place that didn't work out. They changed my contract after I arrived, but it still felt like giving up. Even as I tried to explain to my family and friends all what went wrong and all the things the led me to come home, I feel like I don't do it justice. Of course, they get it. They heard all the different ways I was catfished. It just felt like so much more than that. Should I have stayed? No. I know for a fact that I made the right choice. I would have been miserable all summer, and I wouldn't have gotten the experience I was craving. I knew that my experience would have have been even close to what I expected. That doesn't take away the sting.

The right choice isn't always easy,.

I spent the next few days applying to new jobs. The job I had before I left wasn't an option anymore. I spent some time rehashing my short trip with my friends and family. I was focused on getting a new job. I actually got calls for several interviews, but I was honestly just not into it. I knew I needed a job, but I was feeling so unmotivated. The thing that I was so excited for blew up in my face, and I couldn't even go back to the job I'd had since high school. I just didn't want any other job. I felt like I was floating and out of sync. I felt out of place and even insecure in my friend group, because I felt embarrassed. I had talked about this so much, only to come home in two days because I didn't like it. Humiliating. Of course, this was ridiculous. My friends have been so supportive and this was a bad situation, but still.

So, there I was living at home because I had subleased my apartment. I was unemployed, unmotivated, and kind of lonely.

Rationally, I knew that I should be more positive. This really wasn't the end of the world. My friends didn't hate me, and I was still me. However, it took me a few days until I was ready to make lemonade. Slowly, the smiles and jokes weren't a show anymore. I went on job interviews, made an effort to make plans, and renewed my interest in my responsibilities and hobbies. Now, not everything is perfect. Part of me is still so genuinely disappointed and a little insecure in myself, but I'm still me and this can still be my summer. I have a great new job, friends and family who love me, and six weeks of summer left to have a good time.

I have six more weeks of summer to live my life how I want to live it.

When I first got home, I kept thinking "Now what?" and was so thrown off my rhythm because things weren't as I planned. Now, I'm asking questions that matter. What am I doing right now to be happy? To better myself? To learn? To grow? I want to take chances, and with those chances come mistakes. Not everything in life can be fun, and I will not always be able to see the good in a situation. Regardless, I have learned from this experience. It was an opportunity for growth, and this will probably sting for a while, but I am choosing to move on. It's crazy how much that short 48 hours of my life have affected who I am. It has been and is still so hard to move on from this, but I am ready for the lemonade.

Here's to the true start of my summer of me.