Over the last few months, as my routine has stabilized and I start my new job in New York City, I find myself reflecting deeply on the last three years. Despite the moments of heartbreak, instability, and a general lack of a singular place to call home, I can’t help but look back fondly at this time and think I have so much to be grateful for. In 2018, when I told myself that I was going to live abroad to learn Spanish, I didn’t know how it would ultimately take shape for me, so it was surreal to begin to realize that goal in 2023. Fortunately, I had a remote job, and I decided I was going to take advantage of it, so that December, I told my friends and family that I was packing my bags and moving to Colombia for the next 6 months, bringing only a carry-on backpack and the meager amount of Spanish I taught myself.
Upon arriving, I was unfortunately greeted with immense anxiety and doubt, and spent my first week inside of my studio apartment wallowing in stress and self-pity, wondering if I had made the right decision. I lay in bed imagining all of my future social interactions ending in embarrassment while I struggled to find the words to explain that I don’t speak Spanish; this then spiraled into convincing myself that I would never be able to build a local community, and that I was going to struggle the entire time I lived there. further convincing myself that I was going to struggle indefinitely throughout my time living there. Fortunately, one can only spend so much time wallowing inside a studio apartment, so eventually I went on a walk and passed by a Spanish school. I walked in, asked for their contact information, and started classes a week later. My first few weeks were difficult; I would leave class with pounding headaches from all of the information I was trying to process. However, I slowly began to find comfort in the discomfort; I realized that the only way I was going to learn Spanish was by putting myself in situations where I was forced to both understand and speak it. Eventually, I found my rhythm and started to build a life there, and what was supposed to be only 6 months ultimately turned into about a year and a half.
I find peace reflecting on this time in my life. I think back fondly on how much I loved my Colombian apartment, which was outfitted only with the essentials and, of course, a suite of tropical plants; I think back to the time I spent on the balcony in the early mornings, watching the morning fog drift over the mountaintops into the valley. I am also reminded of my old routines, consisting of Monday night fútbol and Wednesday night volleyball, connecting weekly with the community of people I so enjoyed. Sometimes it makes me miss the version of myself that was brought out by the people I was surrounded by. I was undeniably happy, but it’s true that you can be happy, confused, and a little lost all at the same time. Through these reflections, I am also reminded of the many moments of freedom I experienced: not having a lease, working remotely, and living on only the items I could store in my backpack. This sense of freedom did come with an unwieldy sense of untetheredness as well. By the end of my time there, I knew I was ready to live somewhere more permanently; it had been almost 2 years of living abroad and traveling. I grew tired of wearing the same few outfits, feeling unsettled, and missing my family and friends back in New York. However, it’s funny: as I sit here now, as I sit here now, settled in my Brooklyn apartment, developing a clearer picture of what my future could look like, I often find myself thinking back to my time spent living abroad, wondering if settling down was ever really meant for me, or if NY is simply the right place for now. I feel so much joy surrounded by my community here, and that’s what brought me back and ultimately keeps me here, but I miss the way of life outside of the US.
Part of what I miss is something I noticed early on: I wasn’t going to be asked about what I do for a living in the first five minutes of meeting someone, and my value wasn’t being measured by my job. Instead, I was asked about where I was from, how many siblings I had, or what I loved about being in Colombia. I would anxiously await the opportunity to share all of my favorite parts of the city, to tell them how much I cherished the brisk mornings, sunny days, and how it makes me feel to live in a city where I am surrounded by all of my favorite tropical plants. I would then ask why they loved their city, and it always came back to a few things: the weather, the mountains, and most importantly, the people. It’s different here in New York; it’s customary to ask what someone does for a living. It’s a city where everyone is constantly on the grind. I always think of it as: in Colombia, people work to live, whereas here, we live to work, and I really miss the former. However, our lives and the world around us are constantly evolving, and a good friend once told me that each time you return to a place, you see it with a new set of eyes. Who knows if I would feel the same if I ever lived in Colombia again, so for the time being, I can take comfort knowing that I was fortunate enough to experience something so wonderful, and I can take this perspective with me wherever I may land.
