When I moved to Spain, I knew there’d be challenges. Ten months later, I can say living abroad is equal parts magic and mental gymnastics. Every single day meant juggling not one, but two languages: Spanish and Valencian.
Imagine stepping outside and being met with signs, conversations, menus, and announcements in languages that are almost familiar but still require brainpower to decode. Your mind is always “on”, scanning, translating, trying to keep up. By the time I’d make it back to my apartment, I’d collapse on my bed, turn on some American TV, and let my brain unclench. That was my daily exhale.
So naturally, when I came home for three months, I thought I’d finally recharge. Rest in the comfort of what’s familiar. Instead, I’ve been hit with a whole different kind of tired. Not burnout, not full-on exhaustion… just tired. The kind that keeps you in sweatpants, makeup-free, avoiding your car keys because after months of being a passenger princess on the Renfe train, driving feels like a chore.
I’ve become a homebody in the purest sense. And honestly? I’m not fighting it. No pressure to go out. No need to keep up. Just me, a messy bun, and the comfort of my own space. And strangely enough, it’s been productive. I’ve tackled all the things I left hanging when I first moved abroad, updating my blog (hi, you’re reading it!), purging my closet, clearing out digital clutter, and finally letting go of things I didn’t need. Living with less feels lighter, freer, like my soul has room to breathe again.
Maybe this tiredness isn’t something to fix. Maybe it’s my body saying, “You can relax now. You did the hard part. You built a new life. Now rest in it.”
What’s wild is that this exact time last year, I was basically on a mini world tour. One weekend in Austin, the next in Boston, then New York, with trips back to Nashville squeezed in between. I was on this strange “go, go, go” high, probably trying to distract myself from the stress of moving abroad: securing an apartment, finding roommates, learning a language, and adjusting to a whole new culture.
But now? Now it feels completely different. Heading into my second year abroad, everything feels easier. I already have an apartment waiting, I’ve got a bank account, a phone plan, and most importantly, a little confidence under my belt. The first year was about surviving and figuring it all out. This second year feels like it might finally be about living.
Love always,
American Girl Meets World
