By Gabrielle Lindemann
People asked me time and time again, “What made you study abroad?” And I never have a clear answer because, in reality, I have no idea why. Maybe it’s the oldest daughter escape trope or my lifelong dream to see the world. But now that I’m here, I can confidently say it’s the best decision I’ve ever made.
I had the forms filled out and turned in long before the deadline, so confident in my decision. My heart was set on the romanticized picture of studying in Vienna for the spring semester. This past fall semester came and went as preparations began to fall into place. I had all of my travel TikToks saved with places to eat, things to do and packing must-haves and all of my necessities piled in a corner of my bedroom, proudly telling anyone who would listen how ready I was to study abroad. “I’m so excited,” I would exclaim. And I meant it.
But as the magic of the holidays slowly faded and January came, the tiny pit of uncertainty hiding inside me since submitting my application began to grow in my gut. Wedding bells bring cold feet, but this was something else. I lay awake at night staring at the ceiling, immense fear of the unknown churning in my stomach. Dramatic, I know. But it was real.
I spent nights crying in the safety of the corner of my bedroom, constantly questioning if this was the right decision. “There’s still time to back out,” I would tell myself. “You can cancel and stay.”
As the day drew closer, I slowly said “see you later” to all my favorite people — not goodbye, but it sure felt like it.
My mom, afraid of letting me go, helped me pack using a list I had perfectly curated to ensure I wouldn’t forget anything. Fast forward to arrival day, I forgot some things.
The night before my departure, I barely slept a wink, feeling a mix of nerves before a final exam and excitement on Christmas Eve.
The sun rose, and after hugging my parents goodbye and leaving them at the entrance of security, I did one of the scariest things I’ve ever had to do.
I got on the plane.
Sweat went straight through my shirt and sweatshirt, my body riddled with anxiety as our first flight was delayed, and ideas of everything that could go wrong flooded my brain.
“What if we missed the connecting flight? What if they made me check my carry-on bag? What if we couldn’t figure out the trains when we got there?”
The nine-hour overnight flight was a sleepless one. My eyes were closed and my body was drained, but my brain was wide awake. An empty seat next to me was a blessing, but I was seated in the aisle seat which meant every single person felt the need to hit my chair as they walked down the aisle. The meals on the plane had been mediocre at best, but that was to be expected.
As morning came, I watched a jaw dropping sunrise and that pit in my gut began to slowly shrink. I’m sure I looked like a little kid as I craned my neck to try and see the colors as we flew over the clouds. It was as if the sun was telling me everything was going to be okay.
Running on adrenaline and a half-eaten breakfast sandwich, our group of study abroad students managed to band together and made it through customs and security, bought train tickets and began the journey to our apartments.
When we finally made it, I collapsed onto my bed in the apartment I will call home for the next five months, after almost 36 hours of no sleep. The fully furnished apartment had a full-sized bed, beautiful bathroom, kitchenette and a gorgeous view of the river and city. How am I supposed to go back to the Webster Village Apartments after this?
I didn’t feel like I was in another country at first. Maybe it was the lack of sleep, or the modern apartment, but it wasn’t until we ventured out into the city later that day that the sudden relaxation smacked me in the chest. I was 5,000 miles away from home, but a smile broke out across my face.
I had made it. I was studying abroad.
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