Me, Myself & I

Have you ever heard someone say – or even thought this yourself – that a mistake turned out to be one of the best things that could have happened?

I, personally, had never really sat down and thought about this until recently. Toward the end of my junior year in high school, my mom and I were researching different colleges that I could possibly attend after graduation. Originally, I looked at schools in the New England area because I was scared to be far away from home. Baby steps first, right? I wasn’t ready for any big changes. At least, that’s what I had made myself believe.

When I first found it, I wasn’t sure what to think. An American university in the heart of Rome, Italy? Well, it sounded cool, like one big adventure, but it wasn’t for me. I had just found it by mistake. But my mom had a different opinion on the matter. She encouraged me to apply and, figuring that I wouldn’t get in, I also applied to four other colleges in New England. What were the chances that the school in Rome would be the first to get back to me with an acceptance letter? Of course, I thought this was either a joke or a dream, and so I wanted to wait for letters from the other colleges then consider my options. It was best to play it safe. Once again, mother knows best. She urged me to go and argued that it would be a great opportunity and that I would be a fool to pass it up. She wasn’t wrong.

Before I could catch my breath, it felt like the day to leave was already knocking at my door.

Armed with two suitcases and a plane ticket, I waved goodbye to my parents and little brother at the airport and was on the plane, flying across the ocean. This was insane. I was insane. I had only left the US a hand full of times, and with my parents by my side. This was way different. This time, I was alone. And, sure, there were group chats online for the new students, but I was too anxious to ever actually join the conversation. I did, however, find two people out of the masses that would become my best friends and roommates. We had talked via Facebook for weeks leading up to the start of the semester. But I had no clue where exactly they were at school or when I would find them – I was mostly drifting with the flow of things with my fingers crossed all the while.

After landing in Italy around noon with no sleep in my near future, I was greeted by the Orientation Leaders and herded onto a bus that would take me to my new home. And the school website didn’t lie, it really was in the heart of Rome. Nestled in the busy neighborhood of Trastevere, I was a five-minute stroll from the Tiber River and a twenty-minute walk from the Vatican. Little Fiats and Vespas hurried up and down the narrow cobblestone streets, people strolled here and there under the sun, and each building was so close to one another with the classic Italian orange and tan colors you see in pictures. It really did feel like I was dreaming.

That first night, everything seemed to sink in. I was technically an adult now and alone for the first time on the other side of the world, in a foreign country, surrounded by a language that I didn’t speak. Talk about taking a chance!

Despite it all, I realized that I was actually pretty damn excited. Terrified but excited. I was alone but that was only temporarily. I was scared but I would adjust… I was in a new city, and not just any city, the Eternal City. I had spent the last years of high school reading things on Ancient Rome, imagining what it would be like to taste real Italian food, and hugging pictures of the Roman Forum and the Trevi Fountain. But now? Why hug a picture of the Colosseum when I can hug the actual thing?

I knew that my life was about to change in a big way, and even though I was lost and confused, I was ready to see where this adventure would take me….