Imperfect

  

         Before Fulbright, I applied to the PeaceCorps. I had dreams of going someplace distant and doing something good. Now, I’m living a version of the dream that’s always been inside me. I’m grateful for that and I’m usually happy. 

            In the past, each time I applied for fantastic opportunities, I did it from the comfort of my home state. It’s easy to fall in love with the horizon when you have unwavering love and support at your side. 

           Dreams change and people change. When I returned to the United States for the summer, seeing a therapist was one of my top priorities. I needed to be honest with somebody other than myself or my journal. Though it took time, I was able to admit and accept that I’m not as strong of a person as I thought I would be. Yes, I loved my first year (otherwise, I would not have returned for a second year), but I also struggled with loneliness and depression. There were moments I felt on top of the world, like when I hiked through the Swiss mountains with friends and gazed over the most beautiful landscapes I’d ever seen, wanting this experience to last forever. There were also Saturdays when I would sleep in until noon and spend hours more lying in bed, cursing myself for wasting time but being unable to move. 

           In this past year and a half, I have developed into a new version of myself: an independent, capable adult. At times, I feel so separated from who I was before that I’m looking at my past through cellophane, a separate lifetime. However, Fulbright has also taught me that I am, in some ways, weak. When my boyfriend dropped me off at the airport last December to fly home, I cried in his arms. After my family visited me last spring, I remember looking in the sky at each plane that flew overhead, wondering if it was theirs and willing it to come back. I am glad my path diverged from the PeaceCorps, because now I know how naïve and unprepared I would have been in the face of the real, enormous challenges an experience like that presents.

             At my final therapy session this summer, I admitted that I feared my happiest days were already behind me, that what lay ahead would never surpass what I’d already lived. My greatest shame is admitting that my time in Germany hasn’t been perfect. I didn’t want to let people down by posting anything negative, but I also couldn’t lie to myself. Holding this in has perhaps stopped me from being able to write, and now that it’s out, maybe I can fully embrace the little joys of life again, because there is so much of it. There is the English Creative Writing Club, which has made Thursdays my favorite day of the week. There are my intelligent, curious, sometimes overly-enthusiastic students, who give me energy and inspire me to be a better teacher. There are all the wonderful opportunities, sights, and experiences that I would not have had if I stayed in the United States, which continue to motivate me to enjoy each day. There are my friends, whose support has kept me going through the darker days. Finally, of course, there’s my family, without whom I would never have had the strength to leave. A mama bird’s greatest, most painful accomplishment is giving her chicks the ability to fly away. I’m so lucky to know that no matter where my wings take me, I can always return to the nest. 

           I’m in a much better, more balanced headspace now, which is how I’m able to be honest about this. Here’s to continuing to fly high, and to getting back up when the wind knocks you down.