The Florence Diary: Preparing

The moment that most of you have been waiting for...the documentation of Florence!

While I told myself I would be rather vulnerable on my blog, every time that opportunity has presented itself, I have procrastinated. Talking about yourself is scary, and something I’ve never truly been good at, especially when it's about scary things - which, for me, is going abroad. But just as I am facing my fears by flying across the pond alone for a semester, I may as well start getting honest with my blog. 

For those of you that are unaware, I am going abroad in the Fall to Florence, Italy, as part of my college program. It is part of why I decided to create this blog, as I wanted the chance to document my travels to my friends and family in a more creative outlet than social media. While I am very excited and lucky to have this experience as an undergraduate, it also leaves me feeling particularly anxious. 

I have been fortunate enough to live in the same place my entire life. My childhood room is the same, my kitchen the same (except for the renovations done a few years ago; my kitchen is now white instead of brown! ooooh!), and really the only change I have seen to my home has been the addition of an outdoor patio for get-togethers, or maybe the inclusion of a four-legged friend named Mookie. Otherwise, everything has been left the same, much to mine and my dad’s relief - and to my mother’s occasional dismay.

All throughout middle school and high school, I dreamed of getting away from my small town. I wanted to actually see something, anything, that was different and new from what I had been accustomed to my whole life. I didn’t want to only know my small town bubble - I wanted to see the world. And if you knew me, you knew that I was already as independent as possible; I wanted my college years to only lead me towards further independence and growth. 

Through the college process, I knew I needed to get out, and so I landed on Syracuse University (Go Orange) for its unique atmosphere in comparison to my school district, all while still staying true to the things I love - like the color orange itself -  and being a pretty good distance away from home. 

And then I went away.

And then I got homesick.

And then suddenly I regretted my entire life decision. 

The first few months were some of the worst of my life. Not only did I miss home itself, but I also managed to land myself in awful situations when I did try to endure and acclimate - I got left behind on my first night out going to a party, got cut from the club basketball team - actually, I was given the position of “practice player,” which somehow seems even more lame - and my first college friends turned out to be quite mean, cliquey, and dishonest. Syracuse seemed to be Hell on Earth and I was Atlas. What had I been thinking?

But what I discovered over time was that your experience is what you make of it. Even though it was a new climate, it didn’t mean it was going to be perfect; it was my attitude that mattered more than anything else. I could endure, or I could adjust. And just like I had in high school, I was determined to adjust.

And so I made it on the club lacrosse team as a starter (the sport I enjoyed more anyways), joined a theater club, started to run (still unsure where that came from), cut out my “friends” and made new, much more fun and cool friends, and found ease and excitement through my studies, eventually declaring a double major.  

This does seem a little bit Happily Ever After, and in some ways it is, yet I am still navigating my world and growing to like it. I felt safe and comfortable by year 2 with a lovely roommate, patient boyfriend, and a pretty good sense of who I was and wanted to be. This past spring brought along new friends and new experiences that left me wanting more. Syracuse wasn’t so bad after all. In fact, it was actually starting to be pretty great. 

And now I have to leave it all in the dirt and start all over again? Fuck that! 

Okay I am being a little bit dramatic. But in its essence, studying abroad is daunting. I feel myself splitting in two: on one hand, everyone says going abroad will be the greatest decision of your life, and when I started college, I thought there was no way I was missing such an opportunity. My parents never had the chance to explore Europe in their 20s and here they were helping me get the chance to. I'd be crazy to let it all go to waste. And yet, on the other hand, I am still that homesick, scared little freshman who just wants her puppy and childhood bed. You see where I’m going with this, right?

While studying abroad offers the adventure of a lifetime, it also leaves a gaping hole of “what could’ve been” had I decided to stay in Syracuse this Fall. It could allow me to become a more rounded, independent version of myself, but at what cost? When I haven’t yet found that in Upstate New York, am I getting too ahead of myself? 

And I suppose the only answer I can have for a question like that is: we’ll see.

Time will tell. How reassuring! 

So as it is officially one month away from moving to Italy for the semester, alone, with a random roommate and no sense of how to speak Italian other than level one of Duolingo which includes hello, goodbye, and excuse me, and as I promised my friends that I would blog all about my adventures across Europe and in Florence itself, I thought I’d start with my problematic feelings prior to when I go in an attempt to show a shred of who I actually am on this blog. Just as I did in Syracuse, I hope to not just endure, but acclimate, adjust, and hopefully begin to thrive, all while documenting it here. 

All I can say is: Ciao! 

Or is it Arrivederci?

I have no fucking idea.