I still carry that confidence
Elizabeth Tish
Studying abroad in London in 20XX at age 18
In high school, I wanted nothing more than to leave my small suburban town and move to a big city. I pictured myself immersed in the energy of a bustling city, riding crowded subways, and disappearing into a world of towering buildings and endless possibilities. I applied to colleges in New York and Chicago, hoping this would be the ticket to the urban life of my imagination. Much to my chagrin, when the acceptances rolled in, I was headed to the University of North Carolina. It’s a great school with one significant drawback: it was a 25-minute drive from my house, not quite the urban escape of my dreams. It felt like the universe was shutting down my dreams, but my heart was set on seeing the world.
So, I reset my expectations. I hoped that studying abroad would finally be the way to live the urban adventure I craved. I chose a program in London, and suddenly, the dream became a very real, very intimidating checklist. I had to apply for a passport—my first one ever—and apply for a visa for the elementary school internship I’d secured. I spent hours figuring out how to pack my entire life for three months into one giant suitcase. I purchased my flights, sending me into a spiral about whether I could actually go on this trip at all. Finally, I hopped on the plane, excited for what would come next, but absolutely terrified that I had made some clerical error that would get me stopped and sent home at the border or that I would run out of money while there.
But those things didn’t happen. Over the next three months, I didn't just visit London; I learned how to live there. I became a commuter, mastering the endless routes of the Tube to get to my internship as a third grade teacher’s assistant every day. I loved living a life in a new place and realized that the “big city life” was a lifestyle that I actually enjoyed, not just a fantasy. I loved walking to the local grocery store and killing time in urban parks, feeling like a real part of the neighborhood instead of just a visitor. In three months, I was able to carve out my place in the rhythm of the city. I was thrilled to work and share space with people from all over the world—a tapestry of cultures so unlike anything I’d experienced before.
While London isn’t as radically different from the US as some other places you could travel to, simply adjusting to a new urban setting—dealing with different political debates, learning new social customs, and trying the incredible variety of new foods—gave me a sense of confidence I hadn't possessed before. This wasn't about seeing Big Ben; it was about trying to like tea as much as coffee, understanding British irony in conversations, and recognizing the universal human desire for community, regardless of accent or nationality. It helped me realize that the life I had always imagined for myself was entirely possible, even though it was completely different from the life of anyone I knew. Over ten years later, I still carry that confidence when I step into a new place. I may not know how the local systems work, but I do know that I have the ability to observe, learn, and figure it out. That foundational knowledge of self-sufficiency has served me incredibly well, both in subsequent international adventures and in the rest of my life.
