This blog might be a bit messy, but it’s the most honest way I can capture the emotional whirlwind of moving abroad. I’m writing down my thoughts as they come—sometimes they hit hard and other times they’re just random things on my mind. It’s tough to organize everything in a neat way, so instead, I’m letting them flow naturally, embracing the chaos. This journey is as unpredictable as my emotions, and trying to force structure on it feels like trying to control something that’s meant to be free. So here it is—unfiltered, imperfect, and real.
The funny thing about this particular blog is that I started writing it the day after my first real “breakdown.” One minute, I was crying out of sheer gratitude for this opportunity, and later that same night, I was crying because I realized I was leaving my family and friends behind. It’s such a cliché, but the best way I can describe this process is as an emotional rollercoaster—you’ve just got to ride it out, with all its highs and lows.
One thought that keeps coming back to me is a little fear I have. I’m scared of enjoying this experience too much and wanting to stay longer, which would mean even more time away from the people I love. It’s a delicate balance, and it’s been playing on my mind.
To manage the emotional whirlwind, I remind myself to reach out to friends, family, and even others who have gone through the same journey. Building a solid support system has been key. Most importantly, I’ve learned to honor my feelings. If I feel like crying, I let myself cry. Holding it all in does more harm than good, and processing emotions as they come is part of the journey.
One thing that calms me is realizing that life, like this rollercoaster, offers me a choice—I can always return home if I want to. But I could also choose to stay for another adventure. And that’s what scares me. I’m stepping into life abroad with an open heart, knowing I have options, but it’s the unknown that keeps me on edge.
Here we are. When you’ve been planning something for so long, like this move abroad, it starts to sink into your subconscious. I had a similar experience when I moved to LA, but that was done in a rush—I only had two weeks to prepare. Moving to Spain, though, has been a year in the making. From the moment the idea sparked to handling all the paperwork, it’s been 12 months of buildup.
June slipped by, but now, just four days into July, time seems to have slowed down. I think it’s because I had my first real breakdown over the move, and now I’m soaking in every moment, trying to be more present.
I’m dogsitting with a friend outside of Nashville, watching fireworks from the porch of this cozy house. I feel so comfortable here. If I wanted, I could stay in this comfort zone—stay close to family, settle down, and live a life of familiar routines. Part of me craves that. I dream of a home, a family, celebrating holidays together. But then, another part of me is screaming to see more of the world, to step into the unknown once again, and to let myself grow in ways I can’t even imagine yet. I can always return, but what if I fall in love with my new life so deeply that I won’t want to?
Now, with just a month left before the big move, I feel everything so intensely. I’ve been reconnecting with old friends from years past, and it’s made me reminisce about how good things are here. The thought of starting from scratch in a new place, with no attachments except memories, is overwhelming. Even though I don’t have major ties to home outside of family and close friends, I find myself searching for new attachments, as if trying to anchor myself in this moment before I leave.
Time seems to be flying by, probably because I’ve been so busy. I’m wishing for it to slow down so I can hold onto these last few moments with everyone. It’s hard to believe that the next time I see most of these people could be 8 or 9 months from now.
This process has forced me to be more present. I’m learning to let go of distractions and focus on the now. Especially as the final week approaches, I feel like I have no choice but to sit with my emotions. I’ve put aside projects, ideas, and all the non-essential stuff so I can just enjoy life as it is. I can tackle everything else later—right now, I’m soaking it all in.
I’m incredibly grateful for the support system I’ve had along the way. My friends, both old and new, my family, and the people I’ve met through this program have been so important. It really does take a village, and it’s comforting to know I’m not alone in this. Accepting love and support from others has carried me further than I expected. Here’s to the next chapter, and to becoming a more well-rounded version of myself.
Wow, where do I even begin? I’ve never felt my emotions so intensely before. It’s like the overthinking has finally caught up with me, and I gave myself a headache from the sheer weight of it all. But despite the mental overload, I’ve been really good about reaching out for moral support, which has been a lifesaver. One piece of advice that really stuck with me was: Give in to the grief of moving, and accept that it’s already happened. My only advice is to feel all your feelings fully—honor them, accept them, and let yourself just be. Your emotions are so valid at this moment, and you can’t beat yourself up for feeling this way. Especially if it’s your first time doing something this big, give yourself grace.
It’s a reminder that every emotion serves a purpose. They’re all part of the experience, part of the growth. And with that comes self-compassion—knowing that this is all part of the journey and I deserve to be kind to myself along the way. This isn’t just a physical move, it’s an emotional one too, and I’m trusting that with time, I’ll settle into this new chapter with more peace, understanding, and grace.
Love always,
American Girl Meets World
