My love for wanderlust first flourished in the 8th grade.
I was stuck in the home school system, and I was sitting in either an office or in my living room on a daily basis. Going downtown was my own little form of traveling, because I just loved the city. I dedicated an entire Pinterest board to traveling and any chance I got, I would pin more and more just because it made me happy. Imagining myself in 5 years walking around in Paris, or riding a train into London was honestly what kept me from going insane when I realized I’d be stuck in this town for a few more years.
But now I have 2 years left till I’m finally free from MoCo and then it’s hopefully school in Europe and exploring a new side of myself that I couldn’t discover in Moncks Corner let alone the state of South Carolina. Nothing in the United States would ever satisfy my wanderlust, or my need to be in a more cultural place to truly figure out if I’ve been what’s holding myself back from the life I deserve or if it’s actually my anxiety. A lot of people think this is a decision that isn’t necessarily mature nor what I need because I can go to college here close to my family, where I belong. But the way I see it, that’s not where I belong.
My mom and dad got married, had babies, and are writing their own story. While they have every right to continue writing their own story, I also have this right because it’s my life. I get to decide what I want to be, I get to decide where I go to college, who I marry, what I name my children, where I end up raising a family and opening a practice. All respect to my parents, but that is not their decision in the least bit; it’s mine. It’s my life and I’m not living it for them. I’m living it for me and if I want to move to the UK and go to school at the University of Glasgow, that’s exactly what I’m going to do, because that’s exactly what I want to do.
Most people also think it’s stupid to go to school in a country I’m not familiar with where the culture is different, and where the money and temperature may confuse me. But that’s exactly what I’ve dreamed of for the last 3 ½ years. Getting lost in London trying to find a place to get out of the rain or not knowing how to work the phonebooths because we don’t have them in America is exactly what I’m hoping for. I hope I get off a plane, and try to open the wrong door on a car because I forget I’m in Europe. I hope I try escargot in Paris and english tea at a British tea room. I hope I ride the London Eye and I’ll be able to call for a taxi in the Kensington district of the city.
All of these things are nobody’s business but my own, family included. They may say I can’t go across the pond because they won’t pay for my tuition but quite frankly, oh well. I’d rather be in debt for 10 years after undergrad and med school than go to a university where I’m unhappy, that isn’t top notch where I can learn, and where I’m not getting a cultural experience. Sure, there will be things I miss out on like college football, and hockey, and maybe frat parties.
But taking all of that away to study history/archeology & veterinary medicine at the UK’s equivalent to Harvard, is what I want for my life. Not some party school in the middle of the south where I’m unhappy and getting called a prude for not wanting to drink myself into oblivion or have sex with the first guy who gives me attention at a frat party.
Whereas I could be exploring places like Oxford or Paddington and learning about the city's culture and architectural history, while eating fries from some random side street Nando’s in London and drinking their countries version of sweet tea.
In 2 years, maybe my family will be angry at me for choosing my dreams over theirs, but it’s not up to them what my life is going to be.
At the young age of 11, I had my life swiped right from underneath me by the South Carolina Judicial System and their 19th century laws, as well as the person I thought was my father. It took me 4 years to find my worth and truly figure out that I wasn’t some broken person with “daddy issues”. I was and am most certainly a force to be reckoned with and anyone who tries to mess up my dream of leaving and becoming something is going to regret it later on. Charleston will always be too small for the dreams in my head, just like Ashland will always be too familiar for me to go back.
While my heart swings back and forth between the need for routine and urge to run, I think by now I need to listen to what my heart is saying rather than my brain (which tells me to stay because it’s the more mature choice) because leaving is what I’ve always wanted and dreamed about even before the 8th grade.
Blair Waldorf once said, “If you really want something, you don’t stop for anyone or anything until you get it” and that’s the one quote I live by everyday, because I’m not going to continue to allow people to decide my fate.
Who knows, maybe me leaving is what’s going to push me so far out of my comfort zone that it cures my anxiety... and once I lose my anxiety, I’m going to gain whole life.
