Around ten o’clock on a Saturday night in early May of this year, I came home from my second flight of my 13-hour travel day; finally saying goodbye to my semester abroad. I was greeted by my parents and younger siblings at the Pittsburgh International Airport baggage claim where they hugged, kissed, and helped me grab my three overpacked suitcases—each having luggage tags from both the JFK International Airport in New York City and the Copenhagen International Airport. I was back home for the first time in four months. It was the longest I have ever been away from my hometown, let alone out of the country. I wore a very similar outfit to the one I had worn when I left, but with me, I brought home new clothes, new experiences and friendships, and dozens of postcards from each of the nine countries to which I had traveled.
It has now been a little over four months since then.
I try to carry small reminders of my time studying abroad with me everyday, whether that be the clothes I bought, the postcards and pictures covering the wall in my room, or the ring my mom bought for me when she, my dad, and my younger brother visited me in Copenhagen. I’m also still connected with many of the people I met and formed relationships with while I was abroad. So, I wonder why I’m all of a sudden experiencing a very dramatic pain in my chest when I think about that four month period of my life. Why have I become so emotional and somewhat detached from my life back at school? Why is now any different from the first week after coming back home or even from last week? Why am I struggling to readjust to the life that I’ve lived for so long?
I feel like people tend to talk more about their experiences adjusting to a new place rather than readjusting to an old one—especially when it comes to studying abroad. There was a lot of support from the study abroad program for me while I was there, but I feel as though I’ve had minimal support from the program after coming back to a place that I’ve been away from for so long. I don’t think I realized how much the transition back to my life in Pittsburgh would affect me, especially when it was time for me to come back to school.
Personally, it was easiest for me to feel distracted by my old responsibilities when I first came home—my responsibilities as a daughter, an older sibling, a friend, and a person. I also had a new job, new co-workers, a fresh room, and a different but closer relationship with my parents and siblings. Being away from home for so long made me realize how much I really care for my family. Because of this, I prioritized reconnecting with my younger brother, sister, and with my mom and dad. I wanted to come home and do all of the things I hadn’t done while I was abroad—like eating dinner with my family or hanging out with my siblings and friends everyday. Or even do the small things like driving a car again.
Now that I’m back at school and fully in the swing of things, I can admit that I feel a little off. No amount of conversations with friends and family, self-care, or Prozac has improved the way that I feel. I haven’t been able to transition back to school the way that I thought I would. I think I’m starting to realize that my issues stem from my confusion about building a life for myself in a new place with new people and then suddenly leaving that all behind, knowing that I can never revisit those moments in those places with those people. My crisis is that I’m suffering from a major reality check. Because I’ve neglected to describe to people from home or family how fulfilling my experience in Copenhagen really was, I haven’t been able to pin-point the source of my discomfort. I’ve tried hard not to be the annoying friend who just came back from studying abroad and can’t stop comparing it to everything.
I completely understand the stupidity of what I’m about to say, but I truly don’t think I realized how much I missed those four perfect months (minus the situationship and the contact dermatitis I developed on my eyes) until I watched Belly Conklin, from the show The Summer I Turned Pretty, move to Paris and experience a freedom from her complicated life back home. I’m not implying that my life at home is complicated, but then again, whose isn’t? I think I’m trying to say that I relate to Belly on some level. I, in a way, escaped many of my responsibilities by moving halfway across the world to Copenhagen, Denmark to study art and film, make new friends, and live on my own, like she did.
Maybe I’m simply realizing how much I enjoy the pace that life moves in Europe—slower. I didn’t have a job, I wasn’t worried about paying rent and utilities every month, I took on a lot less responsibility in this club, and school was easy. Denmark also happens to rank among the happiest nations in the world consistently, so I guess it’s no surprise that I’d come home and feel a little out of it once I got back into my “normal” routine—in a country that doesn’t necessarily prioritize the well-being of its citizens. I need to understand that this transition might take a little longer than I thought, and that I need to be patient.
In no world would I ever take back my time in Europe, either. Being someone who was born in Pittsburgh, decided to go to college in Pittsburgh, and had never been out of the country, I did something incredibly brave. I had so much fun, and I learned so much while studying abroad. Perhaps this realization will encourage me to be more adventurous in my life. I’ll do more things that I’m scared to do, and maybe one day (hopefully soon), I’ll visit Copenhagen again. Maybe I’ll make a career out of traveling the world or find a place abroad to live long-term. Or maybe, I’ll realize that I don’t need to move far away and create a new life to be happy. But, I guess until I’ve fully re-adapted, I won’t know what the future holds for me, and that’s okay because it’s so cool to live in a world where I have the opportunity to do and be whatever I want, wherever I want.
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