This tale is going to seem trite, as I am just study abroad retiree reflecting on my life-changing experience, but it may be valuable to an audience confronting reverse culture shock.

It’s a general assumption that when students leave to study abroad they often feeling an overwhelming sense of homesickness and culture shock. Many of us choose to study in places of western tradition, to ease the transition. European culture is very similar to American culture; but simultaneously, starkly different.

We often define the concept of “culture shock” as an eruption of negative feelings upon the entry of another country. Alternatively, I’d define my experience of culture shock as an influx of feelings causing me to question my proudness to be an American. All the differences between Spanish culture and American culture made sense to me, and I was biased towards that of Spain.

Spaniards are social people, but there was no stigma associated with spending time alone. Dinner is at 10PM, and naps are encouraged. Conversations are direct, intellectual and genuine. There’s no hook up culture. Chivalry’s certainly not dead and in addition, young men’s fashion sense extends beyond midcalves and ill-fitting pastel shorts. Wine is cheaper, coffee is stronger, bakeries occupy every street corner, produce isn’t pumped with hormones and no one wears sweatpants unless they’re on the way to the gym.

I became mesmerized by my surroundings, eager to learn how to be European. I abandoned my college sweatshirts and leggings, switched from white to red wine, bought translated copies of my favorite books and deemed the subway system “the metro”. My lifestyle felt simpler, minimalized and easier. I felt homesick every once in a blue moon, but began to wonder why I felt so at home in a place 5000 miles away from stateside?

I feared reverse culture shock more so than culture shock. As soon as I passed through the security gates at the Madrid Barajas Airport to find my American Airlines flight, I broke down. With a flood of tears covering my face, I questioned if I would ever have peace of mind in America the same way I had in Spain.

I loved being home for the holidays, but returning to the American college scene in January posed a great challenge. I had no desire to sit on a couch and drink Bud light, or wear a skimpy outfit to a dive bar. I wanted to be at The Prado, admiring the work of Velazquez or strolling through Retiro Park. Moreover, American social cues seemed falsified, distant and rude. People seemed high maintenance and overindulged. I felt as if there was no way of molding myself back into a piece that would fit into the puzzle that is American culture.

But time ensued, and I became accumulated once again. I found the little things I loved about American culture and embraced them. When I was lazy I liked that society accepted my sweats and sometimes the accessibility of Starbucks was a dire need. I did not miss the vulgar catcalling of the city streets and appreciated America’s level of social progress. Speaking my maternal language was comforting and I realized that in retrospect, I had missed home. I fused the tidbits of Spanish culture that I adored with my Americanism. I hadn’t become any less American, just more globalized.

Although the pledge of allegiance may suggest otherwise, we don’t owe all of our devotion to a single culture. Increases in international travel have aided in the breakdown of political and social barriers between nations. I don’t feel the need to appropriate European culture to my American lifestyle entirely; nevertheless, I have applied some of the qualities I admire in my European friends to myself. I am proud to be an American, but consider myself to be incredibly lucky to be transformed by another culture. While culture shock and reverse-culture shock may be states of utter confusion, they are to be taken as a blessing in disguise.