Writing from experience first draft/ Noemí Fuentes/ ISS2017

Moving out

 

 

 

 

When I was in my third year of highschool I took a plane for the first time in my lifetime. I was going on a school trip with all my classmates and a thirdteen year-old, obsessed with british boybands, could't have asked for a better destination, London. It was at the top of the London Eye, mesmerised its inmensity, where I realised I wanted to live in a big city.

 

I suppose that the need to explore is not a foreign feeling for people like me, who had always lived in a small town, feeling trapped in the place they grew up. I particulary live on an Island that most people would consider a paradise, but even the most idyllic place could turn out  boring if you have already explore all it has to offer.

 

Three years later, and with other travel experiences on my shoulders that only reaffirmed my believes, the opportunity to finally leave was right before me. I had decided to study something that I was good and passsionate about, languages. Translation is not offered on my island, that is why I had to move to another one.It was not a big change but good enough for a fisrt step. So I packed all my belongings and got on a ship with the hope that I was making the right choice.

 

I have to admit that in some aspects living on my own was as good as I expected. The fisrts weeks of university felt like a long summer vacation with friends. Living with the newfound sensation of being completely independent, full of parties and new friendships, and without worrying about curfews or rules. However, as time passed by and the excitement slowed down, I realised how I wasn't as comfortable with my new life as I thought I would be. Learning how to do everything on my own was a difficult task, and to share a flat with my friends didn't seem as a vacation anymore. Sometimes we would argue about the most trivial things, someone forgets to take out the trash or to do the dishes for three days in a row. Things would get especially rough in exam times, when I would be secluded in my room most of the time, missing even the annoying yells of my mom telling me to tidy up.  When I finally went home after 3 months without seeing them, I truly realised how much I had missed them. When I was with them just eating or even watching tv I felt different from before, this time I really appreciated what it was to be surrounded by the people who care most about you in the world. 

 

Now, after two years of living on my own, I can say that it is the experience that has changed me the most. Dealing with problems that I wouldn't have had to face before, made me grow up and know myself better, but what is more important, made me appreciate the things I have and I took for granted.