Ever since my sophomore year of high school, my heart was set on studying abroad in Spain. I watched Spanish media and downloaded Duo Lingo and studied for fun. When I visited the University of Dayton, the administration reps mentioned that tuition was constant in study abroad programs. Even better, they had a program in Madrid. This has been the concrete dream for years now.

But boarding that plane, I felt a sense of finality. While this was only a semester-long experience, I realized all of the things I would miss out on. Family dinners with my roommates, Studio Theatre shows, my community service fraternity's formal... Not to mention already missing Chicago during normal semesters. Portillo's and Lake Michigan, anyone?

Once I was actually in Madrid, it was easy to switch my mindset to taking advantage of such a mind-blowing opportunity. There were plenty of things to see and plenty of people to meet in the international program. I was so stimulated that there was no time for homesickness. I was exploring a beautiful city with people who came from Dayton to Denmark. Sure, I sat in the dining hall of my Spanish student residence alone, but I had a sweet roommate who introduced me to a couple people from neighboring universities. It was a great first stretch.

Then the rose colored glasses slipped off soon after. Surprisingly, it was the small cultural differences that hit me. The white noise of public transit in a different language hit me the hardest.

It happened on the metro into the city. There were so many conversations going on that it all just sounded like noise to me. From then on, the little cultural differences were blaring to me. The cheek kissing in lieu of hugs or handshakes, the prevalence of military time, the proximity people preferred and the possibility that I was unwittingly making a social faux pas were making me anxious. I was longing for something comfortable instead of diving into a new environment.

Snapchat and FaceTime alleviated most of the homesickness. My mom and a good friend put up with frequent calls and I felt pretty connected. At the same time, I was still engaging with new people and experiences. I met another expat who had lived in Madrid for three years and he showed me interesting places and great networks. I found a great group of Spaniards to eat with (even a friend who gave me conversational Spark Notes if the conversation got too fast or a debate got intense).

Then, bad news brought my heart and mind right back to Chicago. My grandfather passed away. I couldn't be with my family at his funeral or say goodbye.

I felt guilty and so homesick that day. It made me question coming. But, by the end of the day, I realized how wrong I was handling it. I decided it was better to celebrate life than dwell on death, and I applied that relevation to my life in a foreign country.

That week, I lived to the fullest extent. I explored new neighborhoods, went to movie and game nights with my Spanish friends and visited to museums and bars with my UD friends. I revitalized my interest in staying informed about international politics, went to the gym more and changed my midterm papers to topics that would actually engage me (instead of themes with the most Google Scholar hits). I even found a live adaption of Rocky Horror with another expat who afterwards showed me his downtown campus.

It was an amazing week. I fell in love with the city. I'll of course miss my loved ones and American culture (dude, Chipotle hasn't reached Madrid yet), but this new mindset cured the looming homesickness. For the first time since moving here, I'd feel comfortable for staying longer than a semester.

So, to anyone who's weighed down by nostalgia or in a rut, I have a tried and true piece of advice for you:

Carpe Diem.