For as long as I can remember, I’ve always loved anything to do with traveling and exploring. I remember packing my little, blue, checkered backpack with snacks, a water bottle, and plastic binoculars (because, you know, that’s all you need when traveling…) and heading out to the backyard to begin my journey. I’d walk around the yard, examining leaves and flowers, then climb up into my clubhouse to “spend the night”, which would typically end when my mom called me inside for dinner. For my entire life, I’ve always had bags packed and ready to go. Whether I was going to the beach, camping, skiing, or just a sleepover at a friend’s house, I could be packed and out the door in 10 minutes. I was always ready to go somewhere. However, I never really expanded my excursions past New England.
I was never one to leave my comfort zone. I mean, I only moved five miles down the road to go to college. I could be home within 15 minutes any time I felt homesick and I loved it. I loved it until I realized how little of the world I had actually seen. As much as I love living on the cozy North Shore of Massachusetts, I know that there is still so much to explore. College broadened my horizons and opened my eyes to so many new things and people. It made me realize that my hometown of 40,000 people wasn’t as big as I thought it was. That’s when I made the decision to study abroad.
I took a leap of faith my senior year of college and applied to study abroad. I had always wanted to visit Italy, so I narrowed it down to Florence, Rome, and Venice. As I asked friends, family members, and guidance counselors for advice on where to go, the answer became more and more obvious: Florence it was. After that, everything happened so quickly. I got accepted into the program, I picked out my classes, my visa got approved, and I booked my flight. By the time my junior year at Salem State had ended, I had all of my documents and forms filled out. All there was left to do was pack, which I had obviously started to do way in advance (thank you very much OCD).
I spent that summer getting ready for my trip and spending my last few weeks with friends and family. Before I knew it, it was August 24th: My departure date had arrived. I had Nick’s Roast Beef for lunch, (because I knew it was going to be hard to survive without it for 4 months) packed up the rest of my belongings, and my family drove me to the airport. As I walked through the security line alone for the first time in my life, I knew the next four months were going to change my life; but what I didn’t know, was how monumentally they would change my life.
I found a single open outlet in the overcrowded boarding gate and plopped myself down on the cold, linoleum floor. I sat there, constantly checking my phone for a text from a girl I hadn’t even met yet: Ali. Ali and I had met on Facebook in the “Firenze Fall 2016” group. We became good friends when we realized we had the same flight to Italy and both wanted to book a trip to Germany for Oktoberfest. I finally got a text from her saying she was going through security. Next thing I knew, we were standing in line about to board the plane, talking like we had been friends forever. We scanned our tickets, walked down the long, steep ramp, boarded our plane, and accepted the fact that our lives would forever be changed.