As Americans who don't always have easy access to cheap international travel, we tend to romanticize it. We always see posts about how another 20-something dropped everything to move to another beautiful city in another beautiful country and how it was the best decision of their lifetime and how they would not change a single thing about their journey. Or how another one of your classmates went to study abroad in another beautiful city and it was the best five weeks of their life and they loved every second of it.
I'm here to call bullsh*t.
Traveling out of the country is an incredibly valuable experience, and I would not trade it for anything either (I know, surprising considering the intro, but hear me out). I would go as far as to say I feel like I've leveled up in life, like I was a basic Pokėmon and now I've evolved into something completely majestic in comparison. But I, like a diamond, didn't get all shiny and irrationally valuable by just rolling through the good times.
Honestly, sometimes traveling is the absolute worst. Traveling for 20 hours plus sitting in the middle seat between two people who hog the armrests, running around airports that are basically mazes, unhelpful staff, rude fellow travelers, delayed flights, going through security, catching buses.... Just getting to where you've been so excited to go for so long can break you down pretty quickly.
And chances are, if it's your first time getting to do anything like this, or if you've ever experienced anything related to the hard work and excitement that goes into traveling, you're going to feel incredibly guilty for being anything but happy with it.
I'm also here to tell you why you shouldn't.
Traveling is great, life-changing, etc. etc., but we're humans, and just like in everyday real life, we still have human emotions and desires even when we travel. You're not going to be happy all the time and everything you want to happen might not happen -- even in your dream city — sometimes, and that's OK.
My trip to Spain last week started off with my body immediately showing cold symptoms in the airport and led to hoarding free toilet paper to blow my nose every five minutes with from public bathrooms. I still walked an average of nine miles a day and went to bed way past midnight. If I was home, I probably wouldn't have left my bed and would've slept in a blanket of used tissues.
But in addition to all that, I still ate churros and paella and saw ancient buildings and got a sick tattoo and took advantage of socially acceptable siesta periods. It was a great time in the worst of times, and I am a much better person because it wasn't perfect the whole way through.
Please never feel bad for being unhappy when traveling, because it's bound to happen. It's what you do in those situations that define your trip and eventually define you as a person.
