One semester down, two and a half more years to go. I've successfully finished my first semester of law school abroad (kind of). While I don’t technically finish my first semester until mid January, I thought it was time to give a little recap of what I've learned while studying abroad; a little expectations versus reality, if you will.
1. People oddly care where you're from.
Similar to the Canadian University classic, 'What's your program?' When you first start meeting people, and the slight judgement that comes with one’s response, I've found that the European alternative is being interested in where you're from. While I'm definitely familiar with people not being particularly mesmerized when I say share where I’m from, in the UK and Europe, it feels almost uncool to be from somewhere outside of Europe that doesn’t identify with a ‘strong culture’. I've learned that many people expect you to only identify with your nationality, not your ethnicity. Coming from a small town with a high population of Italian-Canadians, it was humbling to realize that unless you speak the language of the country you're ethnically from, it's unlikely you will be accepted by those who can speak the language from said country. I've tried to explain gently that in Canada, no one really cares where you're from; we kind of all just coexist in a way where, as long as you're polite, we could care less about what their origin country is or what languages they can and cannot speak. Needless to say, when moving continents, I thought my biggest struggle would be making friends, never that I’d struggle to find a place to culturally 'fit in' or worry that I may not be accepted due to culture, or in some eyes, lack thereof. I took this new experience as an opportunity to prioritize listening, rather than choosing to defend who I knew I was. Smiling and nodding became my biggest strength in conversations I knew would just cause me frustration to participate in.
2. I'm only grossed out by PDA in Canada.
On a lighter note, I had the privilege of going to Paris on my reading week this year, which was exactly as magical as I would've imagined. The city of love is truly exactly what it is made out to be, coming from the eyes of a once hopeless romantic. While in Canada, there's nothing that makes me cringe more than couples who feel the need to show affection in public; over-the-top affection, that is. It just has always given me secondhand embarrassment, perhaps because if that were me, I would just assume someone I knew would see me, which gives me anxiety just thinking about it. But, when seeing kissing and hand-holding in Europe, I wasn't left with this icky feeling, but rather a feeling of wondering why we don't embrace physical touch more in Canada. I think I've just been so closed-minded to affection because everyone around me my age has always thought it was weird to be emotional or passionate openly in relationships, at least in a genuine and less provocative way.
One of my best friends I've made while studying abroad is from Brazil. She greets people by kissing them on the cheeks, similar to my Italian family, which I immediately found comforting when I met her. She shared with me that the people of Brazil are incredibly passionate. Passionate in their opinions, feelings, and how they physically express themselves. It's not gross or strange to kiss your girl friends, and it's certainly not weird to hold hands or show physical affection with someone you love in public. Now, learning this doesn't mean that I'll be the girl openly supporting PDA, and particularly participating myself, however, it's simple to understand that showing physical emotions is nothing to be ashamed of. The wholesomeness and authenticity attached to European PDA is what draws me in. It's not shown in a dingy bar, in hopes to veer off other girls from a mediocre guy you're trying to take ownership of, but rather in a way that radiates the affection of two people who are so in love they think they're the only two people in the world.
3. I like turbulence.
Metaphorically, of course, I like turbulence. While flying to the UK alone in September, I got on my flights with frankly the most crippling anxiety. Both flights with a considerable amount of turbulence which I think now serves my metaphor ironically well. To say the least, it was the longest seven and a half hours of my life. I got off my flight in England and immediately felt my stomach come out of my chest. I found myself smiling at the realization that I had just made the scariest yet potentially most fulfilling decision of my life. This decision, while not as perfect as it seemed on social media, at times left me wondering if it was the right one for me, yet ultimately, left me at peace in the fact that it was made entirely on my terms. While my anxiety and self-doubt followed me for weeks, arguably months after I had arrived, and regularly showed up in moments of exhaustion and defeat, I had learned that one thing that kept me afloat as a chronic over-thinker was realizing that perhaps I thrive with turbulence. All my life, I rarely found peace in moments when I was necessarily secure and hardly accepted success in what I was doing.
More so, I found peace in moments that felt rocky and turbulence-like and moments that awaited progression. No matter how old I get, I fear, that in the back of my mind I always crave this feeling of self-sabotage to prove to myself that I will succeed even after strategically getting myself into situations that most people can't handle. I had an abnormal picture perfect university experience in Canada and to most it seemed crazy to throw that ‘peace’ away for something completely opposite and brand new. Nonetheless, I always craved more. I mean, nothing's reaally fun when it's easy right?
Years prior, when accepted into my program, at turbulent times, I thought to myself, once I get to England, I'll be at my peak. I'll find the guy, I'll thrive in the atmosphere, easily making more friends. I laugh now, understanding that it's most definitely not the place or even moments of elapsed time that will lead you to the things you think you need most. To be niche, everyone who's been on a Porter flight from Toronto to Sault Ste. Marie understands the concerning amount of turbulence. For me additionally, the turbulence I endure while flying over the ocean on my flight back to Canada from the UK. As I got on my flight to come home last week, back to the little hometown that I swore to myself years ago I would never return to; I found myself thinking as I landed, this is where I'm meant to be. Meant to be not in the sense of the city I’m in but rather in the sense that my only end goal in life isn't just to be successful and prove to others I can come out on top, but rather to simply be happy. While using the turbulence on my flights back to reality as a metaphor for life, as I dramatically do, I've learned to appreciate the risks that come along with flying internationally while knowing that at the end of the day, I know I'll always land safely (or at least pray I do).
Looking into the new year and to the future of my little life abroad, I focus on accepting and appreciating the turbulence life offers while feeling grateful, knowing my journey will always land in a place where those who fuel me are just a car or train away, and with the mindset that even with a little turbulence, you'll end up where you're meant to be.
Talk soon,
Gracee
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