What’s next?

Hello blog, it’s been a while.

Can you believe it has now been a little less than three months since I’ve completed the Master 1 program at TBS and around a month since I’ve been back in the States? I surely cannot, but I think it’s about time I acknowledged what I have been dreading for a long time – the end of my study abroad and perhaps this blog.

At 20 years old, I’ve still no clue what it takes to be a proper adult. It’s crazy that I even wrote that sentence because should you be saying ANYTHING different at 20? But then I remember that we are all on different paths in life, with different happily ever afters and I couldn’t be happier for my classmates who seem to have it figured out. How lucky is the person who’s found the love of their life while everyone else (i.e. me) is still searching.

In the back of my mind, I always thought I was doing something wrong. At times, I still feel like I’m behind and missed a memo. While my classmates were experimenting with foreign substances, I was imagining being on foreign soil. In high school, I always felt like I was doing something wrong because I wasn’t drinking, smoking, or having sex. I wouldn’t even categorize myself as a party girl. And as far as I’m concerned, I still don’t. The “life of the party” I am not, and it’s tak(ing)en forever for me to be okay with that.

Lately, I sometimes second guess myself because I’m not married, have no kids, or don’t work at a nightclub or bar in Vegas. It seems like everyone is all grown up while I’m still here in my awkward stage.

It’s taken 3 years, and I’ve finally come to understand that we’re all going various places and have started on these lifelong adventures. Our journeys are different, but how lucky are we when/if our paths cross again somewhere along the road?

I’ve had plenty of time to reflect on and think about a lot. And what I’ve concluded is this:

I studied abroad for what I will admit were selfish reasons. I wanted to experience all the hype and see Europe for all its worth; to escape the routine that I’ve come to feel safe in; to find myself; to fall in love, to become someone who can fall in love. I wanted an adventure, and an adventure is what I got.

I can talk forever about what I’ve seen, what I learned and experienced, what I did, who I met, where I went. And I will, one day to my future husband, children, and whoever else wants to listen.

I will tell them about that one time I almost didn’t make it to Barcelona, and that other time my friends and I almost didn’t make it OUT of Barcelona. I will reenact the conversation I had with my godmother’s granny, hoping to do that wee Scottish woman justice. I will describe the beauty of the Greek isles and the complete serenity I felt for the very first time in my twenty years of life. And I will do this happily, through an ear-to-ear smile.

But I know that no one else is going to understand the inside jokes with the amazing friends I met, or the level of satisfaction I felt when I climbed down in my heeled booties 5 minutes before class started because that was a risk I took living in an apartment with a stepladder to the second floor.

All I can say is that the 7 1/2 months I had has provided me with unforgettable memories and experiences that I will be eternally grateful for.

But enough reading about this adventure, go out and have your own. I most definitely am looking forward to my next one.

Though, do come back and check in often because I have decided that I would like to continue to write and run this blog. It will need to be updated in all sorts, but I am not going anywhere. After all, my journey doesn’t end here.

Stay tuned, universe.