I've been debating whether or not to make this public, but obviously I've opted to. I figure I've publicized my anger towards my dad, so why not publicize the gratitude? For those of you who know what kind of drama I've been through with my dad, this will be a refreshing change for you to see. For those of you who don't, consider that a blessing ;) Here's a letter I sent him yesterday...yes, a written letter from Italy to the US.
Dear Dad,
I was walking around everywhere trying to find some nice stationary paper to write on but I couldn't find any. Apparently letter-writing is a dying art so I'm forced to write on boring lined paper--sorry! Anyway, as you might know, I'm in Italy now and have been for about two and a half weeks. It's gorgeous here...the pictures you see don't do it any justice, that's for sure! The streets are quite narrow and the cobblestone roads are a pain in the ass for the ankles, but the constant walking around makes for some great exercise (and toned legs! :)). The men are beautiful, but they're not as aggressive as everyone says they are. I feel like that's what everyone expects so they attract that into their experience--they have a bad reputation and in my opinion it's an unfair one. But maybe it's just me.
Since I've been here, I've changed. I can feel it already, and one of the things I've been thinking about lately is you. I'm really tired of feeling angry, resentful, and negative towards you, especially when people ask me about my dad. Maybe it's because I'm in Italy, but I want to see the beauty in everything, and I mean EVERYTHING.
Last week, I started a 12-week "program" called The Artist's Way (it's a book). Each week there are certain tasks assigned to be completed within that week, each with a specific focus. The major theme is unblocking creativity and allowing yourself to be creative in whatever area of life you need it for (which in my opinion is every area) in a spiritual manner. One of the tasks in this first week was to write a thank you letter to a former mentor who was a positive influence on your creativity, but when I read that, you were the first person to pop into my head. So here I am, writing you to thank you for the positive influences you've had on my life.
Thank you for always taking the time to prepare meals for us growing up. For waking us up in the morning and making breakfast, packing our lunches for school and having a beautiful dinner made every night. I've always been spoiled with home-cooked meals, and GREAT ones at that! I think it's really inspired me to cook for myself and get really good at it--you would be proud--I've become quite the cook this year. It's become a passion of mine and I owe you some credit after all those years of yummy meals. I've come to appreciate a man who can cook :)
Thank you for being such a great artist. I know it's been a really rough path for you, but I feel blessed to have been around such creativity no matter the difficulty. I feel that much of my talent has come naturally just by watching you do what you do. It's also been a bragging right for me growing up, showing my classmates what "my daddy can do!" It's always rendered "oooooh's" and "ahhhhh's" and impressed facial expressions that always made me feel proud to be your daughter. Your artistic life hasn't been a waste, at least to me.
I loved watching you be able to strike up a conversation with anyone, anywhere. It was fun to see how others reacted to your charisma and charm, as if it were a real rarity, a gift only a select few have--which I think is very true. Not everyone can do that, not even me! I think this is one of the reasons I've always been attracted to outgoing people, because my daddy was that way. I think it's amazing how long you could keep a conversation going and still look like you were having a great time. People love great conversationalists, and so do I.
I really appreciate your sense of humor. You taught me how to laugh without restraint and be proud of that laughter. Some of the best memories I have of us as a family are those in which we're all laughing at something ridiculous. Your laugh always made me laugh even harder because it was so gut-wrenchingly contagious. I feel like you're the reason I laugh like I do. It's real, it's loud, and it's frequent, like yours. When people give me dirty looks for it or tell me something "wasn't that funny," I just chuckle to myself and think, "you guys just don't get it." I love being able to laugh at everything, and REALLY laugh because I think life is genuinely hilarious. So thank you for being such a great example for that.
On the other side of the spectrum, I appreciate your sensitivity; for being comfortable showing pain and sadness, occasionally through tears. You wear your emotions on your sleeve, and now that I'm older and have experienced and encountered different types of people, I realize how rare that is in a man. There are so many men that are taught that it's wrong to cry and show emotion and that it's not "manly" enough, and I'm so glad you've always been open with your feelings. Thank you for not being "too manly" to show your insides.
Thank you for everything you have sacrificed for me and the girls. I realize now that you gave up a whole lot for us, and I understand what kind of a toll that can take on a person. You gave up your motorcycle, your dream, to buy a washer and dryer; to start a family with Mom. And that takes a lot of guts; a lot of love. And because I finally understand what it's like to have dreams and put everything, all of your soul, into it, I can fully understand your anger. It makes sense why, after everything was ripped out from under you, that you broke down and started resenting everyone and everything. You're hurt, and sad, and angry, and I get it. I would be too.
I forgive you, Daddy, for everything. Thank you for everything you have ever done for me. Yes, even the not-so-great things and the negative influences. I can see the beauty in the life you've shown me, and I wouldn't be the person I am today without any and all of it. I'm learning to love myself, even with the broken parts. I love who I am and I'm grateful for everything that has had an impact, great and small, on my life. I want you to know that I set you free. Free from the angry person I've known you to be; free from the life where you can't have your dreams. I'm setting myself free; from the resentment towards you and men in general, from the person I feel I have to be in order to be loved; from the pain and anger surrounding my childhood through teenage years. I love you, Dad, and I always will. I will always be your little girl. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart.
Love,
Heather
September 26, 2010
September 22, 2010
American Roots
What does it mean to be American? So far, it means being arrogant, stupid, disrespectful, and drunk. When I look around, that is all I see. I see a country whose culture is nothing but a bad influence on others, and one that expects everyone else to get down on their level. How do I embrace my roots when I hate everything about what my country represents? How do I come to peace about being American when I continue to see people that give our country a bad name? How, when I see a McDonald's in the most delicious food capital of the world, and Italians getting wasted and passed out in front of a church (which is a completely American influence)?
Well, it's something I need to come to terms with because as much as I hate to admit it, I cannot run from my roots. As much as I want to I cannot deny where I come from. The sooner I embrace it, the sooner I can move on and attract different experiences into my life. But I also need to fully acknowledge my loathing of the country I live in before I can let anything go.
I hate that we expect everyone to speak English on our behalf, and don't even so much as try to learn theirs. The fact that most of the Florentines can speak some English due to the plethora of tourists that come year round makes me sad because if they don't, their business will suffer; it is do or die, and that kills me. What is so hard about learning the basics at least?! Apparently that is too much work for Americans.
I hate how disrespectful we are to different cultures. Instead of trying to fit in and learn their ways of life, we completely disregard anything foreign and expect them not to get mad or upset; it's easier to piss someone off than be open-minded. When foreigners are in our country, we expect them to learn how we do things, but apparently it's a one way street when it's the other way around. What is that?! We're just a bunch of damn hypocrites.
I hate that we have to get drunk in order to have fun and be crazy. For the most part, Italians don't need to be drunk or even buzzed to be having a great time (though sadly, it's becoming more and more common with Italian youth). When I was at the soccer match the other day, I was amazed at how much energy there was in the crowd, ruminating from the pores of every Italian--young and old.The best part? They were all SOBER. They have true passion for their sport, and they have respect for it. They wouldn't dream of getting drunk at a soccer match, it is their love. In America at football games, most everyone is drunk or at least getting there, and comparatively, we have minimal passion. Everyone cheers together here, as one whole entity, and they are proud of where they come from. I wish I could have the same passion for where I come from, but I can't...at least not yet.
I hate the way we do food. We put a bunch of preservative crap in everything and a disgusting amount of antibiotics and pesticides in and on everything. We treat our animals horrifically, cramming them into unimaginably small spaces and feed them the wrong food just to make them grow bigger to meet the demands we have on beef and other meats. We put an incessant amount of pesticides on our produce in order to 'protect' it because we all eat with our eyes. Everything in Italy is fresh, and I mean EVERYTHING! I love knowing that when I go to the market everything has been grown locally and has no preservatives or pesticides in or on it. I love that I can eat more here and not feel bloated or fat, and still lose weight...which I think has a lot to do with the walking and how fresh everything is. Italians know how to do food; it is truly an art form, and I love being able to take part in that relationship.
I hate the way we treat our land. We place no value on preserving the land we have and treating it with respect. We strip the earth of it's natural minerals and nutrition with all the chemicals and over-usage. When we see an open plot of land, we snatch it up and put a boring looking condo on it to get the most out of the space (and money). Everything looks the same, grossly standard. There is no originality in any newly constructed areas, and I hate looking at it. In Italy they have an insane respect for preserving their countryside. Everyone has to go through strict regulations and interrogations before anything is approved as far as building goes because they value very highly the space they live in. And I am so glad because their countryside is BEAUTIFUL!! Italy wouldn't be the same without it.
I'm sure there are a few more things I hate, but these are the main ones. For the past two weeks I have been desperately trying to avoid coming across as a stupid American, and have pissed a few people off in doing so, so I need to confront this. As much as I hate to admit it, I am a stupid American. I'll say it again just in case you missed it: I am a stupid American. I don't know everything (though I like to think I do sometimes) and never will. I will never be anything other than American. I am in a place where my roots are prominent and obvious, I can't run and hide anymore. These are my roots, and this is who I am.
I really want to be open to a new perspective...does anyone have any insight for me?
Well, it's something I need to come to terms with because as much as I hate to admit it, I cannot run from my roots. As much as I want to I cannot deny where I come from. The sooner I embrace it, the sooner I can move on and attract different experiences into my life. But I also need to fully acknowledge my loathing of the country I live in before I can let anything go.
I hate that we expect everyone to speak English on our behalf, and don't even so much as try to learn theirs. The fact that most of the Florentines can speak some English due to the plethora of tourists that come year round makes me sad because if they don't, their business will suffer; it is do or die, and that kills me. What is so hard about learning the basics at least?! Apparently that is too much work for Americans.
I hate how disrespectful we are to different cultures. Instead of trying to fit in and learn their ways of life, we completely disregard anything foreign and expect them not to get mad or upset; it's easier to piss someone off than be open-minded. When foreigners are in our country, we expect them to learn how we do things, but apparently it's a one way street when it's the other way around. What is that?! We're just a bunch of damn hypocrites.
I hate that we have to get drunk in order to have fun and be crazy. For the most part, Italians don't need to be drunk or even buzzed to be having a great time (though sadly, it's becoming more and more common with Italian youth). When I was at the soccer match the other day, I was amazed at how much energy there was in the crowd, ruminating from the pores of every Italian--young and old.The best part? They were all SOBER. They have true passion for their sport, and they have respect for it. They wouldn't dream of getting drunk at a soccer match, it is their love. In America at football games, most everyone is drunk or at least getting there, and comparatively, we have minimal passion. Everyone cheers together here, as one whole entity, and they are proud of where they come from. I wish I could have the same passion for where I come from, but I can't...at least not yet.
I hate the way we do food. We put a bunch of preservative crap in everything and a disgusting amount of antibiotics and pesticides in and on everything. We treat our animals horrifically, cramming them into unimaginably small spaces and feed them the wrong food just to make them grow bigger to meet the demands we have on beef and other meats. We put an incessant amount of pesticides on our produce in order to 'protect' it because we all eat with our eyes. Everything in Italy is fresh, and I mean EVERYTHING! I love knowing that when I go to the market everything has been grown locally and has no preservatives or pesticides in or on it. I love that I can eat more here and not feel bloated or fat, and still lose weight...which I think has a lot to do with the walking and how fresh everything is. Italians know how to do food; it is truly an art form, and I love being able to take part in that relationship.
I hate the way we treat our land. We place no value on preserving the land we have and treating it with respect. We strip the earth of it's natural minerals and nutrition with all the chemicals and over-usage. When we see an open plot of land, we snatch it up and put a boring looking condo on it to get the most out of the space (and money). Everything looks the same, grossly standard. There is no originality in any newly constructed areas, and I hate looking at it. In Italy they have an insane respect for preserving their countryside. Everyone has to go through strict regulations and interrogations before anything is approved as far as building goes because they value very highly the space they live in. And I am so glad because their countryside is BEAUTIFUL!! Italy wouldn't be the same without it.
I'm sure there are a few more things I hate, but these are the main ones. For the past two weeks I have been desperately trying to avoid coming across as a stupid American, and have pissed a few people off in doing so, so I need to confront this. As much as I hate to admit it, I am a stupid American. I'll say it again just in case you missed it: I am a stupid American. I don't know everything (though I like to think I do sometimes) and never will. I will never be anything other than American. I am in a place where my roots are prominent and obvious, I can't run and hide anymore. These are my roots, and this is who I am.
I really want to be open to a new perspective...does anyone have any insight for me?
September 18, 2010
Culture Shock
Hey everyone! Sorry it took me so long to sit down and write a blog...I would have completed one last night but I ran into an issue with my keys (haha!). Anyway, I'm here to tell you all about the adventures of my first week in Italy, except that probably won't happen. If I told you every single detail so far, well, let's just say I wouldn't be having any more adventures for a while. Enough about that! This week: culture shock.
As far as experiencing culture shock goes, I didn't have too many problems with the Italian way of life mainly because everything just excited me, but there were a couple things I wasn't used to that made me scratch my head. First of all, the DRIVING! Wow, Italian drivers are insane!! There will be three lanes on one street, and everyone ignores them. It's all just a jumbled mess, but surprisingly, it works. The conjestion doesn't last for very long, and everyone honks at each other, though it does nothing to make anything go faster or more smoothly. On the way to our apartment, I was a little bit scared for my life and the lives of my roommates, so I had to look out the window so that I wouldn't pay attention to his driving. But, we got there safely, so I can't complain too much :)
Another thing that ended up shocking me was all the walking! I'm more used to it now, but my feet can't say the same. They are blistered and bruised and wounded, especially since my red boots died in the rain and I had to break in new shoes. They are still trying to heal, but every time I wear a different shoe, a new blister pops up (no pun intended) and turns into a stinging cut that I have to put a band-aid on. Which reminds me that I should have brought a million band-aids from home because they are expensive here! Anyway, you also have to be careful when you walk around because pedestrians DO NOT have the right of way. If you don't get out of the way, you will find that you have a broken arm, crushed foot, and a face without a nose...or dead! Especially with the buses..those things are scary! The roads are also very dangerous because of all the potholes! If I would have worn heels, both of my ankles would have been broken by now. BUT, they have provided me with many a laugh due to all the tripping everyone has been doing (including me!).
The biggest culture shock for me was having to deal with forty new people, sharing an apartment with three new roommates, and socializing with a million different personalities. This is my weakness: groups. I've never done well in groups, which is why I've chosen to be independent most of the time. It's easier to be alone; I'm in control when I'm alone. But, I have to do the things that I'm afraid of, so I've been working on letting go of worrying about who likes me and who doesn't, and just being myself. It turns out that a lot of the people who I thought were spoiled, stupid, rich brats, or ignorant, bitchy, annoying girls, I was completely wrong about. I allowed myself to see a different side, which helped me even more to go with the flow instead of resist and resent. I'm doing my thing and letting everyone else do their own because that's all I can do.
The language has opened up many areas of communication for me. I've been able to meet Italian people who work in bars and supermarkets, and people who wanted me to take their picture in front of the Santa Croce (who only spoke Italian) on my morning excursions. I've been able to translate some things for my friends and ask little questions about where to find certain things or places, and I love that feeling! I even like to struggle with the language, and make a complete fool out of myself in front of Italians saying words the wrong way and mixing up verbs, etc. I've decided that I really like the learning curve, especially because all the Italians I've met have been super nice and helpful (not to mention adorable!!). For example, I was able to communicate with one of my neighbors that I had forgotten my keys and was waiting for my roommates to get home (in Italian!: ho dimenticato i miei chiavi, cosi' aspetto per le mie compagne di stanze). Even though I looked like a bum sleeping outside...it was worth it for the interactions I had. I also really love my Italian teacher. She's really funny and pretty, and she only lets us speak in Italian, and she only speaks to us in Italian...so it's a little hard to understand what she's saying sometimes, but I always feel so accomplished when I do know what she's saying. It helps because we have to ask her questions in the foreign language, so it makes me have to struggle to make her understand what it is that I don't understand about a grammar concept. I hope that made sense to you guys haha!
My apartment is adorable. It is small but very quaint, and it's homey and cozy. All the basic essentials are working, so I don't have anything to complain about; I'm living in an authentic Italian apartment in the center of Florence...how can you get better than that?! The quirks of the apartment are fun to figure out. The water heater is very small, so the hot water doesn't last very long, and I found out that you can't turn the shower on and off to conserve water because the shower thinks that you're taking twenty showers all in one, so the water turns cold. You have to go as fast as you can all in one shot so that the water stays hot. Needless to say, the first two showers I took were cold ones; they woke me up at least!!
The food really is amazing here...they don't lie! I just had the BEST margherita pizza the other day for 6 euros, and I mean the BEST! I love the way they make pizza here. The crust is thin and they don't put on a ton of sauce or cheese...it's perfect! Everything is also very fresh, which I love, especially since everything in the US is preserved with some crap unless it's specifically marked as organic; and even then who knows if it's really organic. Here, you don't have to worry about if it's really fresh or having to pay extra for organic food because it's naturally that way! Thank God they haven't caught on to the American way of doing food!! The ice cream, or gelato, here is way better than anything I've ever had in the States. It's a perfect balance of cream and flavor, and just the right portions...and cheap depending on where you go. My favorite is nocciola (hazelnut) or nocciolosa (chocolate hazelnut). They know how to do hazelnuts...just sayin' ;)
I must be on my way now to a soccer game, so I hope you've enjoyed a taste of what my life has been like so far over here! I hope everyone is doing well and is reaching out of their comfort zones! Ciao!
As far as experiencing culture shock goes, I didn't have too many problems with the Italian way of life mainly because everything just excited me, but there were a couple things I wasn't used to that made me scratch my head. First of all, the DRIVING! Wow, Italian drivers are insane!! There will be three lanes on one street, and everyone ignores them. It's all just a jumbled mess, but surprisingly, it works. The conjestion doesn't last for very long, and everyone honks at each other, though it does nothing to make anything go faster or more smoothly. On the way to our apartment, I was a little bit scared for my life and the lives of my roommates, so I had to look out the window so that I wouldn't pay attention to his driving. But, we got there safely, so I can't complain too much :)
Another thing that ended up shocking me was all the walking! I'm more used to it now, but my feet can't say the same. They are blistered and bruised and wounded, especially since my red boots died in the rain and I had to break in new shoes. They are still trying to heal, but every time I wear a different shoe, a new blister pops up (no pun intended) and turns into a stinging cut that I have to put a band-aid on. Which reminds me that I should have brought a million band-aids from home because they are expensive here! Anyway, you also have to be careful when you walk around because pedestrians DO NOT have the right of way. If you don't get out of the way, you will find that you have a broken arm, crushed foot, and a face without a nose...or dead! Especially with the buses..those things are scary! The roads are also very dangerous because of all the potholes! If I would have worn heels, both of my ankles would have been broken by now. BUT, they have provided me with many a laugh due to all the tripping everyone has been doing (including me!).
The biggest culture shock for me was having to deal with forty new people, sharing an apartment with three new roommates, and socializing with a million different personalities. This is my weakness: groups. I've never done well in groups, which is why I've chosen to be independent most of the time. It's easier to be alone; I'm in control when I'm alone. But, I have to do the things that I'm afraid of, so I've been working on letting go of worrying about who likes me and who doesn't, and just being myself. It turns out that a lot of the people who I thought were spoiled, stupid, rich brats, or ignorant, bitchy, annoying girls, I was completely wrong about. I allowed myself to see a different side, which helped me even more to go with the flow instead of resist and resent. I'm doing my thing and letting everyone else do their own because that's all I can do.
The language has opened up many areas of communication for me. I've been able to meet Italian people who work in bars and supermarkets, and people who wanted me to take their picture in front of the Santa Croce (who only spoke Italian) on my morning excursions. I've been able to translate some things for my friends and ask little questions about where to find certain things or places, and I love that feeling! I even like to struggle with the language, and make a complete fool out of myself in front of Italians saying words the wrong way and mixing up verbs, etc. I've decided that I really like the learning curve, especially because all the Italians I've met have been super nice and helpful (not to mention adorable!!). For example, I was able to communicate with one of my neighbors that I had forgotten my keys and was waiting for my roommates to get home (in Italian!: ho dimenticato i miei chiavi, cosi' aspetto per le mie compagne di stanze). Even though I looked like a bum sleeping outside...it was worth it for the interactions I had. I also really love my Italian teacher. She's really funny and pretty, and she only lets us speak in Italian, and she only speaks to us in Italian...so it's a little hard to understand what she's saying sometimes, but I always feel so accomplished when I do know what she's saying. It helps because we have to ask her questions in the foreign language, so it makes me have to struggle to make her understand what it is that I don't understand about a grammar concept. I hope that made sense to you guys haha!
My apartment is adorable. It is small but very quaint, and it's homey and cozy. All the basic essentials are working, so I don't have anything to complain about; I'm living in an authentic Italian apartment in the center of Florence...how can you get better than that?! The quirks of the apartment are fun to figure out. The water heater is very small, so the hot water doesn't last very long, and I found out that you can't turn the shower on and off to conserve water because the shower thinks that you're taking twenty showers all in one, so the water turns cold. You have to go as fast as you can all in one shot so that the water stays hot. Needless to say, the first two showers I took were cold ones; they woke me up at least!!
The food really is amazing here...they don't lie! I just had the BEST margherita pizza the other day for 6 euros, and I mean the BEST! I love the way they make pizza here. The crust is thin and they don't put on a ton of sauce or cheese...it's perfect! Everything is also very fresh, which I love, especially since everything in the US is preserved with some crap unless it's specifically marked as organic; and even then who knows if it's really organic. Here, you don't have to worry about if it's really fresh or having to pay extra for organic food because it's naturally that way! Thank God they haven't caught on to the American way of doing food!! The ice cream, or gelato, here is way better than anything I've ever had in the States. It's a perfect balance of cream and flavor, and just the right portions...and cheap depending on where you go. My favorite is nocciola (hazelnut) or nocciolosa (chocolate hazelnut). They know how to do hazelnuts...just sayin' ;)
I must be on my way now to a soccer game, so I hope you've enjoyed a taste of what my life has been like so far over here! I hope everyone is doing well and is reaching out of their comfort zones! Ciao!
September 08, 2010
Ants
The other day I was working in my backyard and had to move a loose tree stump so I could make room to paint. In order to move it by myself, I had to turn it over a couple times to get it out of the way. To my surprise, I realized that I had just uncovered an enormous colony of ants! I curiously watched them scramble around like chickens with their heads cut off, most of them carrying a minuscule portion of a solid white substance. I guessed that this was either their food supply, or they were transporting eggs to a place where they could hatch safely. I felt bad for uprooting them like that and forcing them to build a new home elsewhere.
That's when it hit me: I am in the same boat as this ant colony. I am being uprooted (although purposefully) from the life and home I've always known, and scrambling around trying to make sense of all the chaos that packing and getting ready for a three month journey entails. Instead of carrying around tiny little white things, I'm adorned with a big, black fifty pound suitcase, a small carry-on bag, and a purse with all the essentials in it.
I understand why they scramble. It's really scary when you're yanked out of your comfortable little world and thrown out into the unknown to face cultural differences and a change of environment. I'm scared. I'm nervous. I'm in disbelief. And I love it, because that means change is coming, that means growth is on its way.
I know there's hope for me because after about twenty minutes, the chaos of the colony calmed down and spread out in search of a place to call home elsewhere. Although there's only about forty of us going on this trip instead of a billion, I know that we will all spread out, calm down, and eventually call Italy home.
That's when it hit me: I am in the same boat as this ant colony. I am being uprooted (although purposefully) from the life and home I've always known, and scrambling around trying to make sense of all the chaos that packing and getting ready for a three month journey entails. Instead of carrying around tiny little white things, I'm adorned with a big, black fifty pound suitcase, a small carry-on bag, and a purse with all the essentials in it.
I understand why they scramble. It's really scary when you're yanked out of your comfortable little world and thrown out into the unknown to face cultural differences and a change of environment. I'm scared. I'm nervous. I'm in disbelief. And I love it, because that means change is coming, that means growth is on its way.
I know there's hope for me because after about twenty minutes, the chaos of the colony calmed down and spread out in search of a place to call home elsewhere. Although there's only about forty of us going on this trip instead of a billion, I know that we will all spread out, calm down, and eventually call Italy home.
September 03, 2010
Introducing My Dreams
Hey guys! I've decided to start a blog solely for my experience in Italy so that those of you who are interested in knowing how I'm doing and what's going on in my life half a world away will be able to keep updated!
As most of the people in my life should know, I'll be in Italy for three months on a study abroad program. My family can tell you what a beast it's been these past few months trying to get all the money in order to pay for this trip, but I did it!! I made my dream come true (of course with a lot of help), and it's a beautiful feeling.
Everyone asks me why I chose Italy as opposed to any other European country. The normal answer I give is what anyone else might say: the food, the culture, the men, the language...but what I don't tell most people is that it's bigger than that for me. It's something that can't really be explained. It's a pull, a yearn, a strong, unfathomable desire for this country that I don't fully understand. My heart tells me to go, so I'm listening. Simple as that!
This is my dream. To travel the world and experience a life outside of the one I've always known, and write about it is something I've known I've wanted to do for a long time. So here I am, almost twenty years old and finally embarking on a journey that will change my life forever; I am pursuing my dream, the life I know I will love living. I'm taking the plunge into the unknown and trusting that whatever comes of this experience will be for the betterment of my existence, and I am so excited!
So by all means, follow my blog and live vicariously though me as I experience Florence, Italy!
As most of the people in my life should know, I'll be in Italy for three months on a study abroad program. My family can tell you what a beast it's been these past few months trying to get all the money in order to pay for this trip, but I did it!! I made my dream come true (of course with a lot of help), and it's a beautiful feeling.
Everyone asks me why I chose Italy as opposed to any other European country. The normal answer I give is what anyone else might say: the food, the culture, the men, the language...but what I don't tell most people is that it's bigger than that for me. It's something that can't really be explained. It's a pull, a yearn, a strong, unfathomable desire for this country that I don't fully understand. My heart tells me to go, so I'm listening. Simple as that!
This is my dream. To travel the world and experience a life outside of the one I've always known, and write about it is something I've known I've wanted to do for a long time. So here I am, almost twenty years old and finally embarking on a journey that will change my life forever; I am pursuing my dream, the life I know I will love living. I'm taking the plunge into the unknown and trusting that whatever comes of this experience will be for the betterment of my existence, and I am so excited!
So by all means, follow my blog and live vicariously though me as I experience Florence, Italy!
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