So, here’s the truth I didn’t want to admit out loud until recently: I wish I had gotten more involved in my first year in Spain.
There. I said it.
Don’t get me wrong, I did plenty. I adjusted to a new country, new culture, and new grocery store hours (which still confuse me). I taught, I explored, I stumbled through Spanish conversations, and I soaked in the slow pace of life that somehow both frustrated and healed me.
But somewhere between settling in and simply getting by, I forgot to really live.
I didn’t go to nearly enough language exchanges. I skipped events thinking, “I’ll go next time.” I didn’t push myself to talk to strangers or locals unless I had to. And you know what I realized? It hit me about two weeks before I was supposed to move out, I was standing in a plaza I had never explored. Full of cafés, little shops, restaurants… right there in my own city, just waiting for me the whole time.
I felt like I’d somehow missed my own life.
Now, to be fair, I was living in a smaller pueblo, which made everything feel a little more limited. Things don’t just fall into your lap in towns like that. You have to create your social life, your community, your experiences. And I didn’t realize that until it was almost time to leave.
Here’s where I need to get a little preachy, because someone has to say it:
If you’re in this program (you know the one), especially if you’re only doing a year, make the most of it. Seriously. Pretend like you’re on borrowed time. Because in a way, you are.
This isn’t college. There’s no built-in social calendar. No one’s coming to knock on your door to drag you to a tapas night. And if you’re holding out for something more exciting, waiting to get placed in your dream city next year… don’t. This program is about as predictable as the weather in Spain (you’ll learn the hard way). You might not get the region you want. You might not get the city you were hoping for. You might not even get placed at all.
So live like it’s your only year.
Explore like it’s your last weekend.
Say yes to the awkward invites.
Go to that language exchange even if you butcher every sentence.
Make your pueblo feel like your playground.
If I could go back, I wouldn’t wait until two weeks before my lease ended to realize there was more to see, more to feel, right in front of me.
So take it from someone who learned the hard way: don’t just live abroad… be abroad. Fully. Loudly. Messily. Curiously. Because life in Spain has a funny way of slipping past you while you’re waiting for the “real” part to begin.
This is the real part.
Love always,
American Girl Meets World
