Wednesday, 16 January 2013

"Shit, this isn't what I thought this would be like..."

This was my constant thought from the second I left Sydney to the second I arrived at what would be my new home in Bordeaux, 17,300 kilometres away from my friends and family. One week ago, I arrived at my apartment feeling the emptiest I've ever felt. You see, when I was a naive 17-year-old and it came time to choose preferences for university courses, I looked at the International Studies degree and saw an exhilarating, liberating future. On my own, I could probably live my life exactly the way I wanted now, I thought. Up until that point, and even until now, I had struggled with the feeling that no one saw me as an adult; as my own person who could make the right decisions for myself. I was constantly trying to prove myself and to my constant dismay, I was always met with someone older or wiser questioning me. So, exasperated from so many years of being the baby, I chose the degree that would take me half way across the world so I could finally prove that I was intelligent, mature and more than capable enough of taking care of myself. This is how I came to be in Bordeaux.

This opportunity would've been perfect for that girl three years ago. But I'm 20 now, and strangely, I feel like it's myself I need to prove these things to. The idea is daunting; I'm homesick and overwhelmed, but I've been doing it. I'm paying my rent, opening bank accounts, cooking three meals a day, spending more time in the grocery store than Rue Sainte-Catherine and I'm not falling apart at every given opportunity. Ready or not, I guess I'm an adult now. 

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