About a year ago, if you had asked me where I was thinking about attending college, I would’ve named a few colleges in the United States, but I would honestly admit to wanting to go to France to finish my education. Two of my top schools were in Europe, and another was in Canada. Even my top colleges in the States had to offer a full-year abroad program, or I barely considered them. My parents told me I was crazy, my friends were shocked, but I was dead-set on leaving the country for university. Looking back, I don’t regret wanting to go abroad. My heart was set on seeing the world, and it still is. The idea of adventure made me giddy with excitement, and that is how I always wanted to feel.
This past April, a trip to the Netherlands was cancelled after the terrorist attacks in Brussels caused the United States State Department to issue a travel alert. Flights were cancelled, tours reimbursed and I was left adventure-less. Our airline, as a form of reimbursement, issued each of the travelers a free ticket to anywhere in the world. I took mine with excitement, and nearly immediately cashed it in for a trip to France. I had never been more excited about a trip in my whole life. This was my chance to adventure, see new things, and experience the life I would potentially live as a student in Europe. Needless to say, reality hit me hard.
When you haven’t seen a place in person, or you haven’t been in a very long time, your perception of that place is a little warped. In my not being to France in nearly four years, I had forgotten how little the streets are, how hard it is to drive and how many people smoke. My small bedroom at home seemed absolutely giant compared to the tiny apartments in the cities of France. Most notably, the jarred sauce I found on the shelves of Carrefour just couldn’t compare to my dad’s incredible homemade pesto.
It was the little things from home that I missed so much: my dogs, my sisters, my parents and my boyfriend. Even the language barrier made me itching to go back home. Granted, I do speak French, and if I were to move there, I wouldn’t be faced with much of a barrier, but English is my first language, and I feel more confident speaking my first language than my second. Even the schooling there is completely different: they take different tests, have different majors and I would be a step behind everyone else my entire time at university.
I realized quickly that, as much as I love Europe, I couldn’t live there for more than a year. France, Italy, Spain, England -- they all offered me different experiences, all of which I am forever grateful for. Traveling is where my heart is, and that will never change. But calling a country “home” is a very important label, and one that I’m not ready to take away from the U.S. just yet.
What I didn’t realize a year ago is that wanting to be away from home doesn’t mean fleeing. It can mean moving 30 minutes away, not 30 countries away. I don’t know where I’ll end up a year from now, and I’m not crossing Europe off of my college-search list, but I now know that it might not be the best option for the rest of my career. I will continue to travel and experience cultures from all over the world, but I think I will reside in the States for a while. My home is the United States, and traveling made me realize how important my home is to me.
