Tomorrow morning, I leave for graduate school in Vermont.
Am I anxious? Most definitely. I have little idea of what to expect. I know (roughly) of my living arrangements, and I know that there is a Dunkin Donuts two minutes away. Other than that, things are a little foggy. I will not know my class schedule for another week or so. Right now, I feel like I'm winging it.
And that's the difference. The difference is, I'm a little more okay with it.
Rewind to September 2009. I honestly think I spent half of that summer in tears. Going away to college is, I think for everyone, that first terrifying milestone. Back then, "change," (or at least monumental changes, as opposed to the day-to-day), was an exception.
These days, change is the norm.
In the last four years, I've lost a parent. I've lived in two different countries. I've undergone transformations that can only come with being catapulted into the unknown and surviving the experience.
I am still a nervous person, and I'm not sure I can change that. But now, in 2013, I sweat a little less. My mom may not cry as heavily over our parting tomorrow. (Although I still expect her to be teary. After all, I am her only daughter and firstborn.) I guess she has grown, too.
Looking back, I smile when I remember that this whole blog started as a journal of my time abroad. How funny that a series of classes I began the year before I left for Perugia would so drastically alter my planned trajectory. And how interesting that this altered course would bring me to this moment.
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