What Makes it All Worth it

The best way that I can describe this pre-departure phase is as a balancing act. Have you ever tried plate spinning? You know how circus performers spin plates on sticks, balancing sticks on their heads and feet, one balanced on their tongue—I’ve never tried it, but after this past month I can imagine how it feels. The preparation period for my upcoming semester abroad has been trying to say the least. Keeping the study abroad plate in the air along with the student plate, the daughter plate, the friend plate, and the human person with a body plate has honestly been harder than I thought. My time management skills are admittedly not stellar, so that’s part of why I’ve found this challenging. But on the other hand I’m not sure anyone really prepped me for how intense the ‘before’ piece of going abroad would be. Keeping deadlines straight along with paperwork, doctors appointments, the dreaded visa process, and oh yeah regular schoolwork is not an enviable task. I will admit tears have been shed, but always there has been a light at the end of this very stressful tunnel. 

Never once have I felt that what I was doing wasn’t worth it. Paris is my dream and has been for as long as I can remember. When people ask me why I want to go to Paris or why I’ve stuck with French for so long I can’t really give a good answer. It’s just impossible to explain to someone who hasn’t been in my head for the past 15 or so years. Even when I went to the wrong building for my visa appointment and had to race through Chicago traffic to get there on time, it was still worth it. When French bureaucracy made me want to pull my hair out, when deadlines all landed in the same week and everything felt horrible, it was always worth it. I would do the whole thing again for the chance to become the person I will be by the time I leave Europe. I do not take for granted the many ways I have been so lucky to have this opportunity. I don’t take for granted everyone who has supported me along the way. Every time I’ve felt anxious or sad these past few months I’ve just been imagining how it will feel when those plane wheels touch down. I’ve been thinking about the world map on my bedroom wall with red string connecting all the places I’ve been and the satisfaction of watching that red string cross the Atlantic Ocean for the first time. 

Soon when the dust settles, I will have a moment to exhale and when I do I think it will finally start to feel real. I’ll finally get to do the fun part. I’ll get to map out the city in my mind, find my subway line, my favorite patisseries, I’ll know that I worked for it, that I did it on my own (mostly), that I saved pennies in glass jars and now I get to break them open, let them flow onto the table and topple onto the floor, because this is what they’ve been waiting for all these years.