My life changed drastically when I was 18 and decided to go study in the UK.
By the time I turned 19, I had moved out of my home, took a flight, rented a flat and left my friends and family to run after my dream.
By the time I turned 20, I was in love with being alive. I never felt happier, I never enjoyed myself more.
When was the last time I did something for the first time? Everyday.
I went from living in a small city, not fitting in, to living in a big-ish city and fitting in perfectly. Feeling like I belonged somewhere.
The funny thing was, I didn’t know where exactly, but somewhere. I do not belong to my hometown or to this new city but now I know that something is still waiting for me out there.
But trying so many new things was the best thing I’ve ever done.
New city means new streets, new shops, new museums. New university means new people, new friends, new enemies. New life, new ideas. I changed completely. For the first time in my life, I became myself, grew up and felt down.
I’ve experienced happiness, confidence, loss and doubts.
I questioned myself on life, suicide, god, happiness, feminism and, most importantly, myself for the first time.
I was alone, learning to love myself. When I stepped away from all the things that caged me back home, I found out what happy really means.
Trying something for the first time turned out to be scary, but also the best thing ever.
After living alone for nine months, I traveled alone for the first time.
I booked a ticket to London, and went there for a week, with a map, some money and a great plan that I ended up not following at all.
First step was telling my family and friends. After hours of complicated worries like “London is a big city, you’ll get lost”; “You’ve never been there, it’s dangerous”; “Why alone, can’t somebody else come with you?”, came the stories of old friends and relatives being robbed and beaten in London. Drunk people raping you and homeless people stabbing strangers.
But hey, I already had the ticket and obviously couldn’t let £20 go to waste, am I right?
None of those terrible things happened to me, and I absolutely had the time of my life. I spent the week in a lovely lady’s house who cooked me breakfast and talked with me about literature every night. I explored the city, the underground, countless free museums. Spent lazy days in Hyde Park or reading books in front of the river. After seeing everything on my list, I just wandered around with no destination.
Now, a year has passed and I can proudly say I’ve spent 9 months trying new things every day. I’ve never put myself into danger but I crossed so many lines. I wrote a lot, cried and laughed, like really laughing. I’ve been happy and madly sad. But, most importantly, I’ve been alone and loved it. I got to know myself, because doing new things gets you to a new level. It does not bring you experience. It brings knowledge.
I am completely confident in saying that everything I did last year was the best decision I’ve ever made in my whole life. And I wouldn’t trade it.
And you. When did you do something new?
You know that thing that you’ve always wanted to try but never did because you’re afraid to fail? Do it anyway. Failure is way better than regret. Being alone is not as bad as people think. The world is such a rich place, take everything in as you walk by the streets of a new city alone. The music, the people, the smells, the architecture. Being alone is a bliss. Trying new things made me put myself in the first place. Luckily, there was no more room for others.
