I love them.

It’s six in the morning, and I’m curled up on my aunt and uncle’s couch in Buckley, Washington. My mom, sister, boyfriend, and I arrived here on Friday, but the eight hour time difference between here and Cambridge is still taking its toll on my internal clock. Our days are crammed with hiking, going to the city, and eating pizza. Although hopping on a four hour flight to Seattle less than 24 hours after I got off my 9 hour flight from London didn’t exactly sound appealing, it’s probably good that we went on vacation so soon. Helps distract me from what I’ve left.

Toga Murder Mystery

When I first got to Cambridge in January, I absolutely despised it. Everything was all old and crumbly. So much precipitation. The half dozen pipes next to my bed let me know whenever anyone flushed, showered, or washed their hands. I was determined to dislike everyone on my trip. At one point, my reason for not liking someone was that they were “unnaturally nice.” Obviously, I was just lonely and missed my friends, family, and Clint. Even more so, I was scared. I was terrified no one would like me, neither my housemates nor any Britons in the town. I had decided to take the immature route and dislike them before they figured out they didn’t like me.

Stereotypical Phone Booth Shot

And then, after about a week, the sun peeked out (and not just symbolically, thank goodness). I started to figure out how truly wonderful my housemates were. I envied Laura and her relentless confidence, had my days continually brightened by Kelly and her giggly disposition, grew even closer with the hilarious and marvelous Madalyn, suppressed laughter as Jon accidentally offended someone, fell in love with everything about Hannah, and strengthened my friendship with the best friend anyone could ask for. I allowed myself to relax, to be myself, to not care if I didn’t get along with everyone. I learned to revel in and cultivate the friendships I was fortunate enough to have. In addition to my housemates, I was lucky enough to make a few good friends from Anglia Ruskin University. Bonding with Lauryn over our shared love of One Direction and obsession with each other’s countries was easily my favorite part of class. Meeting James and realizing that I was getting to know the most extraordinary person in England was one of my favorite parts of the entire trip.

Hannah, Madalyn, and I in the Lake District

As I formed friendships with the people in my house and in Cambridge, I also learned more about myself. Studying abroad helped me make certain realizations about who I was, what I wanted, and who I wanted to be. Living abroad, I caught a glimpse of how massive the world is, of how small I am. I figured out that all the plans I had for the future were anything but fixed. There is so much more to life than some comfort in the tri-state area. Furthermore, traveling on my own and constantly having my expectations not match reality helped me understand that I can’t (and shouldn’t) be in control of every facet of my life. This semester has made me realize, accept, and embrace that many aspects of my life are out of my hands, that Someone infinitely more powerful and able is watching over me. Goodness, what peace that realization has brought. My perspective has broadened, my mind has opened, my trust in God has deepened. Sometimes, I feel as though someone has put my maturity in fast forward (and other times, it feels more like rewind). Ultimately though, I’ve grown up a lot in Cambridge and have changed in ways I won’t fully understand until I completely adjust to life back home.

The Gang

There were an embarrassing number of tears in the days leading up to our departure, not to mention the sobbing on the plane and in O’Hare. And in the car. And in Steak ‘n Shake. It was incredibly hard to accept that one of the best stretches of my life was coming to a close. I’m going to miss countless things about my life in Cambridge: talking deeply with Bryn on our journey home from Anglia, doing absurd things to get a laugh out of Daniella, cracking up at Emma whenever she got weirdly excited about things, realizing the full extent of Frances’ awesomeness and ability to get animals to love her, shaking my head at Brendan’s crazy schemes, gawking at Allison’s vast knowledge of, well, everything. And then there’s the incredible blessing of having Matt as a director and getting the pleasure of knowing his family. Oh, and the crepe cart, obviously. However, all I’ve learned and all the friendships I’ve made can thrive back home. And the reunion with Clint, Sam, and my family was so needed. Making who I’ve become while in Cambridge continue and grow in the States is key to successfully adjusting to life at home. In any case, who’s to say I won’t be visiting Cambridge next spring break? (right, Mom?)

Cheers,

Danielle

Although I have already arrived here in Cambridge, I thought I would put something I wrote before I left as my first post. This basically tells you a little bit about me as well as explains what I was hoping to get out of my study abroad experience:

Within the cushiony confines of my mind, I always like to entertain the idea that I’m brave. I would skydive, trek through mountains, scale down buildings, get sorted into Gryffindor, slay a dragon— I submit my daydreams as evidence. But inevitably I remember the truth. I’ll see a spider dangling from the ceiling or something and remember that panicking and I are on a first-name basis. I’m scared of storms (at least I’m situated in the Midwest, a stone’s throw from tornado alley..), flying, insects that look like they could eat small animals, and Quentin Tarantino to a certain extent. Far from courageous, I tend to spend my downtime snuggled up with my roommate watching New Girl.

Thankfully, author John Maxwell in all his wisdom offers some consolation: “Courage isn’t an absence of fear. It’s doing what you are afraid to do. It’s having the power to let go of the familiar and forge ahead into new territory.” And so I applied to study abroad: let the forging begin. I don’t mean to paint myself as a hermit who’s too scared to experience life. I’ve travelled a lot before, mostly to Europe, at different ages and with different people. I have hiked and zip-lined and traveled via dogsled. But all my trips have been no more than two weeks in length. They’ve been escapes, temporary departures from my customary life and self. My time in Cambridge won’t be an escape or a visit; I will be living in England for four months, buying groceries and going to school. If studying is involved, it can hardly be called an escape. I know that there will be moments when I will be nervous, frustrated, and homesick. But the mindset is that there will be infinitely more moments of excitement, contentment, and growth that only a place like England can give me.

This is a travel journal Bryn got me for Christmas!

As a (wannabe) writer, I seem to be perpetually in pursuit of a too elusive prize: inspiration. I feel like a villain in those old cartoons where I’m sprinting to the point of exhaustion while the scene behind me keeps repeating itself, and still I come out unsuccessful. Again and again I try to articulate the jumbled ideas in my mind through beautifully-crafted sentences. But the words don’t come. The inspiration and motivation to write what and how I want is not always present in a musty dorm room. But countless poets and novelists have made England their muse. From breathtaking nature to cobblestone streets of small towns to London’s unique mix of history and modernity, England offers inspiration at every corner. I need this jolt from my familiar Valpo life to a place immortalized in poetry and literature. Although I know that I will still need focus and willpower in England to succeed in my writing endeavors, I believe that either inspiration will finally stop running from me or I will gain the motivation to speed up and catch it.

Apart from honing my personal writing skills, I want to meet new people and learn about their cultures. I don’t like being stereotyped as the typical American who doesn’t know that there is more going on outside of her smartphone or friend group, let alone beyond the oceans surrounding her. I admit that being an American makes me short-sighted sometimes, and there is honestly so much about politics that I fail to grasp. But by leaving home and experiencing and understanding the cultures and lifestyles of other countries, I learn more about the world around me, both its suffering and triumphs, as well as better form my own beliefs. It’s important to befriend people who have different values and opinions than yourself. They challenge you to defend your beliefs and give you bits of their wisdom and insight in the process. It turns out humans can be pretty symbiotic when they want to.

I know during this journey, I will make mistakes, cry for my mommy, and just have those miserable days. I am bound to lose something valuable, and I know the weather won’t exactly be a pick-me-up. But I am willingly exchanging the sun-kissed trend for the sun-snubbed look (and if that isn’t firm proof of my dedication, I don’t know what is). I want to learn and grow and make friends. I want to explore and laugh and be spontaneous..even if it means death-gripping my best friend’s hand the entire flight to Heathrow.

Danielle