I've been in the United Kingdom for almost 7 months now. I think I can safely say that Swansea is one of my homes. Just as Sonoma State and Novato are. The first semester I was homesick and miserable. I was supposed to be having an amazing time in Wales, so why was my deepest desire to simply return to the United States? A dark hatred for Wales festered in me after a rough start, which made living here even more difficult. I've never really had to deal with such drastic changes before as my university was a short drive away from my house. I was able to overcome this hatred and appreciate Wales, but that still didn't mean I wanted to stay. Thoughts of leaving and never returning began to enter my mind.
How bad would it be if I just went home? Would it be terrible to miss a whole semester of school?
I hated myself for thinking it and would try and find stories online of people who had the same dark thoughts and overcame it.
Luckily, inner strength is something I have a lot of and so I was able to muster up the energy to stay here and even sometimes have fun. The all-consuming lonlieness I felt was still present, but once I set up eating dinner with some of my flatmates every night, even that went away some. I've often considered myself an introvert, but at the moment all I wanted to do was fo out and do things with people. Because when I was alone all I could do was dwell on how miserable and sad I was. I was forced to confront every thought and emotions as they attacked ruthlessly.
It got a little bit better towards the end as I learned to get used to the omnipresent sadness. Studying abroad was not glamourous and was often bad before it was good. That's the acceptance I came to. I didn't think it could be any better. The uncertainty of whether I was making the right choice in staying and studying abroad in general still haunted me. In my darkest moments I would doubt that I was ready or deserving of such an experience.
And so after a hard first semester, I went hoe for the holidays in hopes of rejuvenating myself. It did seem to work, but then the whole time I was dreading going back and lamenting the plane ride home. Yet at the same time, I missed my friends there. FaceBook kept me connected with them, but it wasn't the same as face to face. And the time difference sucked. Now I was uncertain about being content at home. Although I enjoyed baking cookies in batches for the holidays and spending time with my family, I was happy that I would have another semester in Wales.
But I was incredibly stressed during the last week when I had to revise for exams, and so that put a damper in my last moments with family and took the emotion out of returning home. It was a break from studying and I was thankful for it.
Amazingly, I got through finals and actually did well. Two A-'s and a B+! After my last final, I was on the midnight bus to London Gatwick Airport and from there...ROME! It was a week trip in Italy all by myself. I was really nervous and scared but super excited at the same time. I came out of it feeling more self-confident than ever before. I could navigate buses and metro stations in a whole new country all on my own. A truly life-changing experience.
Once I was back in Swansea, it was straight back into classes and society meetings. Plus this term I was frequenting the gym with a friend determined to become skinny (and slowly but surely succeeding). I have been busier than ever and time has been flying by. Compared to the first semester when it miserably crept by.
This has led to guilt. Guilt for not missing my family and friends. Guilt to lying to them alland claiming I was in fact missing them.
What's wrong with me? Have I turned into some unfeeling monster?
My dogs I occasionally still missed, such as when walking along the beach and seeing other breeds running across the sand and playing fetch with their owners. Or when going on hikes with the Swansea Ramblers and seeing tiny Freddie the Jack Russell Terrier. But even my fluffies fell away from my mind, save from when a bark in Singleton Park heard through the kitchen window would force my thoughts back to them.
This went on for the first couple of weeks into the new semester. I was too concerned about worrying about leaving Swansea forever in three months to dare think about missing home. I had to focus on being in the preent. There was so much to see and do. Couldn't possibly miss sunny California when there are countries on he map I haven't seen and places in Wales to be explored.
But soon...I started walking past the dogs intentionally and could not be more thrilled when one disobidiently jumped on top of me. The crock pot was being filled with chicken, guajillo chili powder, cumin, lime, cilantro, and all those grand Mexican things. A letter from a friend back home featured poppies and a monarch buterfly which I remembered are just as gorgeous as daffodils and dragons.
As I became content to realize I would still see a lot of the world and come out more cultured and knowledgable about this side of the world, home become a more present force in my mind. Once again uncertainty gripped me. Was I a true Californian or a Welsh American? I love burritos and sipping smoothies in the sun, but I also adore a fresh hot Welsh cake from the Swansea market, sprinkled in sugar. I want to stay with all my friends in Wales, yet still live in California with everyone I love. America is my home, but so is Swansea. I don't know what I want. Where I want to be.
When I went home all I talked about was how different Wales is and what they do better. In Wales, I talk about how different California is. I can't win. Suddenly I belong to two cultures. One I was born with and one I adopted. And I am uncertain as to which one I truly want to be in during each moment of the day. Because the truth? I want to stay a part of both. I can't imagine leaving Swansea. But in three months this whole thing will be over.
In the end, however, there is one thing I am certain of. The decision to study abroad was the best one I ever made.
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