I’m back.
Technically, I never left. I’ve been writing a lot — just not here.
As a journalism student, is it surprising that I used to hate journaling?
My therapist swore by it. TikTok claimed it was the cure-all — self-care, clarity, better sleep, etc. Every time I journaled, my hand would cramp up and my thoughts would race faster than my pen could keep up. I didn’t get it. But turns out there’s something to it.
Last semester, I studied abroad in London and it wasn’t anything like I expected. There were a lot of highs and lows. Adjusting wasn’t easy, and it wasn’t just about sightseeing or checking things off a list. A big part of my experience was getting out of my head.
Now, back to journaling. Even though I didn’t write for this column while abroad, I still wrote for myself — at the airport on the way back from Rome at 6 a.m., on top of a mountain in Edinburgh or sprawled out in a park in Amsterdam.
Maggie gave me a journal for my 20th birthday with a note inside: “For when inspiration hits you…in London and beyond. Love, Mags.” So, this article is that “beyond.”
What I wrote in my journal abroad didn’t seem worth sharing since many entries were half-formed thoughts. But there’s more there than I initially realized. I wrote for the hell of it — which, I think, is the best type of writing.
Now, I’m diving into my unfiltered journal entries from abroad — they’re raw, real and vulnerable.
1. “There’s so much pressure to be doing something all the time.” Sept. 14, 2024
I wrote this on a particularly overwhelming day early on.
No one talks about how stressful it is adapting to a new place, especially if you hate change.
I attempted to keep up with everything — classes, touristy things, new people — and it was too much.
Living in a new country for less than four months feels like you have to do everything immediately. You want to experience it all but you can’t sustain that pace without crashing. And boy…I crashed.
I’m always trying to “make the most of my time,” but it gets overwhelming.
And no one ever talks about it.
The pressure to be constantly on the go is unspoken but real. We all feel the guilt of taking a moment to stop and breathe. It’s like we’re afraid of missing out or like we’re not maximizing our time.
I’m learning that it’s okay to take a step back. It’s okay to nap and to not be doing something all the time. There’s value in being present, just existing for a moment.
It’s your time abroad — no one else’s.
2. “Am I missing out? Or is this just what growing up feels like?” Oct. 9, 2024
This one was after I’d been in London for a month. I was really missing my community in Boston — BU On Broadway, Omega Phi Alpha, walking down Commonwealth Avenue with my oat milk matcha from Pavement in hand.
I missed the rhythm of my Boston life.
Being abroad is about being uncomfortable, and you can’t grow if you’re not uncomfortable.
I wondered: “Am I missing out on something important back home?” But I realized: I’ll never be 20 again, traveling Europe with my best friends, experiencing this once-in-a-lifetime thing.
As much as I missed Boston, I had to understand this moment was fleeting.
I’ll be back. I’ll walk those familiar streets again, perform in musicals with my best friends and experience the comfort of the city I love. But I had to embrace reality: I was living in Europe, time would pass and I’m so privileged to get this experience.
I knew I couldn’t let longing for what I missed keep me from fully soaking up what I had in front of me. But damn, was it hard.
I don’t think I’ve truly been present ever. It’s hard to ignore the feeling that you should be somewhere doing something else.
I tried to focus on living in the moment, especially when time is so limited.
3. “I’m now in Cambridge, and I got a sausage from a man at a sausage stand.” Oct. 26, 2024
I decided to head to Cambridge for my first solo overnight trip.
At the beginning of my study abroad, I wanted to take a trip to another country by myself. I commend anyone who is able to do that because being alone in Cambridge, less than two hours away from London, was scary for me.
When I arrived, I thought: “what do I want to do when I don’t have to please anyone else or follow an itinerary?” I know! Get a sausage from a stand outside the train station.
While it wasn’t a life-changing sausage, the experience was symbolic. I stood there, holding a sausage, feeling like I could accomplish whatever I wanted.
It was a tiny, spontaneous decision that encapsulated my first solo trip: messy, unplanned and full of moments that wouldn’t matter to anyone else.
And I stood there. I ate the sausage, and it was beautiful.
This next one was written in August before I left, when I was feeling anxious about the move.
4. “I know this will be good for me as a person. I hope I can read this when I get back and smile. Smile because I had the best time.” Aug. 11, 2024
I can feel how true this is. The feelings of anticipation and nervousness have passed, but the growth, new perspectives, memories will last forever.
As I read this again, I do smile. I smile because it was more than just good. It was transformative.
There you have four journal entries from my time abroad. Some of them are serious. Some are ridiculous. They all made me who I am today — more reflective, more present and oddly enough, more comfortable.
And maybe that’s the lesson from abroad — and beyond.
