Moving forward

I'm starting to get a little bit sad about going home. I'm still excited, and I don't regret only being here for one semester, but I will miss it. Paradoxically, this makes me very happy. It tells me that after all, I established an enduring, positive connection with this place, despite all the episodes of frustration, loneliness, and anxiety. It felt unhealthy to be as excited as I was to get out a few weeks ago.

This experience was not a utopia, an inconsequential world of parties and carefree attitudes. School first seemed ridiculous, then scary. I spent a lot of time reflecting on my past, on my future. At best, I felt uncertain. At worst, I felt like a miserable failure of a human being. And despite all of that, I will look back on this fondly, as an imprescindible period of growth. Bless rose colored glasses, bless optimism. Perhaps not growth in the way study abroad is intended, as my mind was elsewhere more often than not. To modify one particularly insightful Spaniard's observation, cada periodo de tiempo es como es. Moving on.

Only this past week did everything fall back into place. I feel completely confident and competent. I'm ready to go back to Davis and to jump off the undergraduate diving board into the murky pool of the unknown in a little over a year, to make decisions about my future, my job, to keep moving forward. I haven't felt this capable in years; I'm ready, and steady, and go.