Writer's Block: Challenges I’ve Faced
First of all, I finally got my applications done and I can interact with the world again. Huzzah! Hopefully that means I'll be interacting more on LJ in the near future, so let's
My greatest challenge that I have encountered (thus far) would to be my trip to Europe after I graduated from university. After four years of specializing in Western Humanities, I longed to visit the places I had studied in books, art, and music. I finished my undergrad in April 2005 and was starting my Master's in September; it was the perfect time to take an extended trip. I had the money to do it--but no boyfriend, no friends with time/cash, and no family with the inclination to come with me. I was seriously doubtful about my ability to handle all the stresses of travelling without having my anxiety getting the better of me, as I'm easily overwhelmed by new experiences, confrontations, stressful encounters, etc. but I decided I couldn't let the opportunity pass by.
Using a language school in Central Italy as my springboard, I got a smattering of Italian (and my former French schooling) to help me navigate the train system, booking hostels, reading maps. But just as I was finishing up the three-week course and getting ready to take off on my own, I had a confrontation with one of my roommates that led to my social ostracization by, well, everyone. It was nightmarish--it was the worst possible thing that could have happened to someone like me, and I was all alone thousands of miles away from home in a country where I could only barely speak the language. I could feel the breakdown coming, and I obsessed about the incident for days, long after I had left the school and everyone in it.
But a strange thing happened--being around so much history and beauty, my own problems seemed so silly--I was able to see the bigger picture. I calmed down and started to enjoy my trip again. I also noticed that unlike the scheduled herding of the language school, I was thriving on my own. I was thrilled by being able to make my own choices about where to go and what to see. I ate at restaurants by myself, started conversations with perfect strangers, and planned things as I went along. One of my favourite stories was when I decided to stay in Lucca for an extra day, but the hostel I was staying at was booked, so I negotiated a night in the maid's room. Through networks I made, I found cheaper ways to extend my trip but staying on people's couches, something I never saw myself doing in a million years.
The long and short of it: I returned to Canada much more adventurous, adaptable, and mature than when I left. Even more, I learned to make peace with my perceived flaws, which I thought were holding me back from happiness. In Europe I realized I could be happy, really happy, with my own company, flaws and all. I don't think it's any coincidence that I finally started dating when I returned to Canada--my self esteem was higher, and I think just subconsciously I wasn't letting my baggage precede me as much anymore. Not to say that those issues went away (my subsequent break-up proved that) but I didn't blame myself for them anymore.
My mother told me I came from Europe a different person, and she was right.
My greatest challenge that I have encountered (thus far) would to be my trip to Europe after I graduated from university. After four years of specializing in Western Humanities, I longed to visit the places I had studied in books, art, and music. I finished my undergrad in April 2005 and was starting my Master's in September; it was the perfect time to take an extended trip. I had the money to do it--but no boyfriend, no friends with time/cash, and no family with the inclination to come with me. I was seriously doubtful about my ability to handle all the stresses of travelling without having my anxiety getting the better of me, as I'm easily overwhelmed by new experiences, confrontations, stressful encounters, etc. but I decided I couldn't let the opportunity pass by.
Using a language school in Central Italy as my springboard, I got a smattering of Italian (and my former French schooling) to help me navigate the train system, booking hostels, reading maps. But just as I was finishing up the three-week course and getting ready to take off on my own, I had a confrontation with one of my roommates that led to my social ostracization by, well, everyone. It was nightmarish--it was the worst possible thing that could have happened to someone like me, and I was all alone thousands of miles away from home in a country where I could only barely speak the language. I could feel the breakdown coming, and I obsessed about the incident for days, long after I had left the school and everyone in it.
But a strange thing happened--being around so much history and beauty, my own problems seemed so silly--I was able to see the bigger picture. I calmed down and started to enjoy my trip again. I also noticed that unlike the scheduled herding of the language school, I was thriving on my own. I was thrilled by being able to make my own choices about where to go and what to see. I ate at restaurants by myself, started conversations with perfect strangers, and planned things as I went along. One of my favourite stories was when I decided to stay in Lucca for an extra day, but the hostel I was staying at was booked, so I negotiated a night in the maid's room. Through networks I made, I found cheaper ways to extend my trip but staying on people's couches, something I never saw myself doing in a million years.
The long and short of it: I returned to Canada much more adventurous, adaptable, and mature than when I left. Even more, I learned to make peace with my perceived flaws, which I thought were holding me back from happiness. In Europe I realized I could be happy, really happy, with my own company, flaws and all. I don't think it's any coincidence that I finally started dating when I returned to Canada--my self esteem was higher, and I think just subconsciously I wasn't letting my baggage precede me as much anymore. Not to say that those issues went away (my subsequent break-up proved that) but I didn't blame myself for them anymore.
My mother told me I came from Europe a different person, and she was right.