Hands down, my biggest fear or reservation about going abroad is thinking that I am prepared—both mentally and physically—to handle it and finding out that I am in over my head.
I have lived an unfortunately sheltered and arguably uneventful life. I have never been outside of the country, let alone by myself. This past summer was the first time I was ever allowed to ride a plane alone and be in charge of getting myself back home. Even though I have travelled more than some, I try to remind myself that travelling internationally is a whole knew ball game. I have been to Washington DC, to San Francisco, to LA, to San Diego, to Savannah, Georgia and Florida. But I am not even comfortably accustomed to American flight protocol, let alone what is going on in airports and train stations abroad. I don’t even have a passport!
Not to mention that every time I’ve been out on my own, I was never actually on my own. I was with a class full of people with chaperones or my family. I have never been forced to somehow find my own way within a city. I probably wouldn’t even know where to start.
But for whatever reason, I want to travel and see everything. If I go to France or England, I don’t want to just stay there I want to see Spain and Scotland and Italy. I’m one of those people who when someone asks them what country they want to go to I say the whole continent and it’s not a mistake.
But I am also really afraid. Because I’ve begged for independence for so long and been denied, that now that I have it, I am afraid I am not going to know what to do.