Last summer, I did one of the craziest things I might have ever done. I traveled internationally. Alone.

I had only traveled internationally once before, and that was with an exchange program group. I became so close to my host family and sister in Argentina that I was determined to go back.

To be fair, it was just the traveling part I would have to face alone because as soon as I made it to Argentina, I would be reunited with my Argentine family. But in my eyes, the journey to the destination is where the most can go awry.

Everything started out so well, so I should have seen that as a bad sign since I am known for my bad luck.

I had been planning the trip for months with the help of my family, and we were all so excited. Being the type A person that I am, I mapped out where I would be going at each time, especially because my layover in Dallas was so short. I wanted to be prepared for anything. Little did I know, I was not prepared for this.

My parents brought me to the airport in my hometown, we said our goodbyes, and I made it to my gate with no issues. I even got on the plane a little early, so it was looking like I would have plenty of time to get to my second flight in Dallas.

But then we kept sitting there, for an hour, with no air conditioning (in July).

It was safe to say there were no happy travelers on the plane that day. I still stayed hopeful that maybe my plane in Dallas would wait just a little longer for me, but when I finally got to Dallas and checked the status of the flight, my heart sunk as I realized it had already left.

I began texting and calling everyone to update them on the situation, and they all reassured me that it would not be a problem to get on the next flight. I agreed with them until I could not find someone from the airline to listen to me.

When you are an 18-year-old girl who is alone, people typically aren’t jumping to help you, especially when you are starting to cry after waiting in a line for over an hour.

After a couple of meltdowns, I finally got to talk to an agent who told me the next flight was not until 5:00 p.m., the next day.

I tried to bargain and find any flight, but when the agent began to tell me my options for hotels, I wanted to cry (again). She gave me vouchers for food and a hotel, and then I was sent off on my own to find the shuttle for the hotel I was being put in for the night.

Once I got to the hotel (that was really more of a motel) I checked in only to find out that my mom had already called to make sure I would be taken care of. I also had both families (in the U.S. and Argentina) calling the airline to complain about my situation, so I had a pretty good defensive team.

Once I finally made it to my room, I just broke down when I realized I had no extra clothes, as I was not prepared to be stuck in Texas for the night.

Since check out was at 11:00 a.m. the next morning, I had a lot of time to spend at the airport in Dallas after hopping off the second shuttle. I spent the day at the airport watching Netflix and visiting gift shops, and before I knew it, it was finally time for my flight.

I cannot explain the relief I felt when I finally got on that airplane and it took off (a little late, but no complaints here).

10 hours later, I finally made it to Argentina, where my sister and the rest of my family was ready to greet me with hugs and kisses. I probably didn’t smell the best after all the stress sweating that was happening, but I was so relieved to be done traveling that I didn’t even care.

It turned out to be the most amazing trip ever. I guess all the trouble of getting there was worth it, and the flight back was not bad either.

Now that I’ve been through all that, I have so much confidence in myself to do it again because if I can handle that crazy trip, I can take on the world.