So after an entire summer preparing for and panicking over my upcoming study abroad experience, I finally found myself sitting in my beautiful apartment room, overseeing the warm yellow and orange buildings that run down the streets of Florence Italy. And well, I can honestly say, study abroad, at least in this first week, is nothing like I thought it was going to be; it’s so much more.

     Prologue: I spent the entire summer preemptively mourning my lost semester at Whitman and worrying myself over the simplest things like making friends, having a good roommate, not being able to get out of the airport, etc., so much so that I forgot what I had to look forward to. I spent little time thinking about the fact that I was going to totally immerse myself in a new culture, or integrate myself into a family with ways that I had to respect and adapt to. Probably for the better because I didn’t need any more worries to consume my headspace.

     So, on my first day, I arrived late in the afternoon after my 10+ hour flight. I was wracked with nerves and excitement, and mostly the concern that I was going to screw up my basic Italian and not make it to the right hotel. Once I got in the taxi though, I was finally able to relax, and then it hit me. I was in the heart of Florence Italy. And as my taxi whipped around the tight, windy streets, I soaked in everything I could see from my taxi window.

     Tall yellow and pink buildings with thin brown windowsills ran down every street. The sides of the pavements were packed with cars and bikes parked bumper to bumper. Moped riders zoomed every which way and pedestrians weaved in and out of the street, fearlessly strutting around while cars nearly grazed them. Already I knew I was in a completely different world. And as my taxi drove further into the heart of Florence, I started to notice how narrow the streets were, how old and refined the architecture was, how many tiny restaurants and shops could be jam packed into a tiny block. I also noticed that the people carry themselves differently. The Italian people I saw held their heads up high, with backs aligned straight. They were not timid dodging through the crowds and streets and they walked with an air of conviction and swagger.

Finally, my taxi arrived at my hotel and after exchanging a butchered “Grazie!” I headed into the lobby. This honestly, was probably the most disorienting and frightening part of my trip so far- assimilating into the crowd of American study abroad students. I apparently arrived later than everyone else and decided to not fly on the group trip, so to my surprise, when I walked into the dining room half an hour after dinner had started, everyone was already sitting in groups, talking like they had known each other for years, which some of them had. I quickly sat down at a nearby table hoping to blend in as much as possible. The people were courteous, though not great at talking to me, so I sat back and ate while I watched the crowds of people chatting. I learned later that many people had come to Florence with classmates and friends. I thought to myself, “I couldn’t possibly be the only one who’s alone here can I?” That thought was soon followed by “what in the world did I get myself into?” I went back to my room, feeling more overwhelmed and lonely than I’ve been since freshman orientation.

That night though, after an incredibly long and draining meeting on the dos and don’ts of living in Italy,  I was able to really connect with some of the Architecture and Art Majors in my program. It reminded me how refreshing it is to start over, and also how important it is to reevaluate your identity as you continue to grow.

     My Whitman orientation, I wanted to make friends with everyone and do everything; I wanted to be liked. Now, I know that I want to find the people that fit with me. Find the specific people that force me to grow. Find the places that will wow me. I want to go off on my own adventures and do as much art documentation as I can. And for the first time in a while, my identity was focused less on people pleasing, but on pleasing myself, and being confident in who I am and the choices I make. Though my first night was overwhelming and disorienting, I feel asleep knowing that I was going to be okay because I trusted myself to find people and things that make me happy. And I’m relieved to say about a week later that I was right to trust myself.