Okay, so here’s the thing… I had a blog for the first 6 months of my time here in Barcelona. But I gave the address to some of my family and friends wanting to share the experience with them. As time went on, and after discussing it with a friend, I began to realize I was becoming almost too guarded with what I was writing, carefully picking out the words that I used to describe my experiences. (Maybe even sugarcoating things a little) Sometimes it’s easier to be honest and open with the world and yourself when there’s some level of anonymity getting in the way. There are some adventures that I have had during my time here (and I’m sure more of which to come) that I really don’t think I want my family knowing all the details of. I’m hoping in that keeping this “semi-anonymous ” blog I can be truly honest and open about all my feelings and experiences both good and bad.
SOOOOOO… here’s my deal.
I am 22 years old, a recent graduate of college with no effin idea with what I want to be when I “grow up”. Most of my friends from college ~seem~ to have their lives together, already getting promotions and know what they want for their future and I’m still like uh…. nope not yet. So here I am, traveling, living abroad, and learning so so much about who I am as a person and what amazing things the world has to offer. (Still with no clue what I want from my future, but I’m learning that that is okay)
Growing up I was such a homebody, never had left home for more than a sleepover at a friends house… never had left the country (I didn’t get a passport till I was 19 years old .. now I can’t imagine my life without one). Then when it was time to apply for college there was no doubt in my mind I was ready to move away from home. So backtrack, I grew up in New York, more specifically on Long Island, about 30 minutes by train outside of Manhattan. As much as I love where I grew up it was very…closed… I knew that it was never the right place for me and I needed to explore something more. Also, I am an only child, and my parents have been divorced since I was about 7 years old. I love both my parents and I am very close with both of them, but again, I knew I had to get away from home and explore something more. So it started by me going away to college, not too far only about 3 hours by car..but at that time in my life it was a big step. Then my junior year of college I decided to go abroad, leaving the country and being somewhere new and different made me insanely excited, and horribly scared at the same time. Mind you, it was only a 6 week program, but I was going to Panama City, Panama. I was really stepping outside my comfort zone, putting my spanish to the test (especially living with a host family who spoke no English) and just for the first time in my life leaving the country and getting to experience a new culture and way of life. To say I fell in love was an understatement. As soon as I got home, I looked into traveling more, going abroad again, anything. I just knew, I HAD to travel more, this was what I needed to do with my life. So the following year, my senior year of college, I did yet ANOTHER, study abroad.. this time in Europe. It was a Spain/Rome program, we traveled all over staying in Madrid, Granda, Sevilla, Barcelona and Rome (also a brief trip to Prague and tons of day trips to other cities). With each day I spent in Spain I fell more and more in love with the country, and then finally we arrived in Barcelona. I just got this feeling in my stomach, it felt like home. I know that sounds cliched and silly, but there was just something magical and amazing about this city that completely drew me to it. (Actually, my the last photo I posted from Barcelona was captioned “Barcelona I’ll be back”, not knowing that here I would inevitably move here)
As soon as I returned back from my study abroad I knew I had to find a way back to Spain and I poured myself into researching ways to come back. The more I thought about and the more I realized I was really unsure about what I wanted to do with my life I thought, hey fuck it, I’m going to just pick up and move there. Sooo now..here I am, living in Barcelona.. at this point almost for 7 months. It totally feels like home and with each passing day this city feels more and more like home to me. In my next post I’ll explain exactly what I am doing here in Barcelona, and a little more information about myself and my experience. I already wrote way too much, at being as it’s almost midnight I wanna quit before I start writing rambling nonsense (not that I haven’t already..)
BTW apologies I have so much to say and sometimes my ideas are sometimes swimming in my head in a ways that may not have a logical flow… so try and bear with me until I get an actual hang of this whole blogging process.
PS sorry if i rambled too much…
You are an inspiration to still be sticking it out, over a year later!
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thank you so much! It was tough going, but I just genuinely enjoy writing… so I keep on going 🙂
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