Forgive me pretty baby, but I always take the long way home.

"A journey of a thousand miles must begin with a single step." 

Today was definitely not an easy day and this blog entry is going to seem pretty unorganized, but my mind is positively overwhelmed with thoughts right now. I’m nervous and scared, but I think I’m finally ready. It’s my last night here at home, but it marks the first time I’ll be living by myself. It’s the last day of dreaming and yet, it’s the first day that the dream becomes a reality. After so many months— about a year— of preparation, I think I’m ready. But I certainly didn’t feel like that earlier today.

In fact, earlier today, it didn’t hit me that I was finally leaving until the afternoon. I got extremely anxious. I mean, I’ve spent so much time preparing and worrying about one thing or another that I hadn’t really given myself time to swallow that it was actually going to happen someday. I think that’s the best way to put it. I realized that I never gave myself time to cry, time to accept, and time to think about what’s going to happen. Suddenly, I began to excessively (and I mean excessively) worrying about my family, mainly my mom. I felt guilty and almost selfish because I felt that by leaving, I would be making her sad. It was just TORTURING me. I saw my best friend today too, she paid for my pedicure because she has a heart of gold <3 I had a bit of a cry with her when we had to say goodbye, just a few tears— but when I spoke to my mom tonight, I just let my tears flow freely and told her everything.

I told her how sorry I was for being a difficult and grumpy daughter over the past few weeks. I told her I loved her and I told her that I was having fears of me not being strong enough, but to my deluded surprise, she told me that she thought I was getting stronger by the day. She said that I was a responsible person because of how on-top of everything I am, and how she’s noticed that I’ve been doing more and more by myself lately. I guess she’s right, I mean, not too long ago, I was blogging about being scared to talk on the phone! I’m still a little roll-my-eyes-y when I have to do it, but scared? Get out of town! I mean, just a few months ago— in May actually— I was the one huddled in a corner asking my mom to make a doctor’s appointment for me because of how talkingtostrangersoverthephone-ophobic I was. That kind of makes me laugh now. That kind of makes me really laugh. And it was my mom who pointed that out!

I told her that I’d keep in contact with her— you know, taking pictures, and even sending her emails at her work email address, just so she can know how I’m doing during the day to keep her reassured. I think we both felt better after that conversation. In fact, it somehow veered from the topic of confidence to makeup and then to me explaining Einstein’s theory of Relativity to her. Yeah… I went there… But the whole point is, to me, this is the indication that things were back to normal, that my earth wasn’t crashing down because I was leaving (and neither was hers), and that things were going to be okay. Alas, the hardcore worries, fears, and anxieties began to wane. Is it going to suck at the airport tomorrow when I have to say goodbye? Kind of. Of course, but I’m glad that me and my mom had that discussion now because it needed to happen at home before I left to the airport. It’s certainly going to make that goodbye-for-now much easier than if it didn’t happen. It’s kind of silly to be so sad anyway. I’m going to be back in Canada in December for a few weeks for Christmas holidays, so I don’t want to say, “leaving” my family… It’s more like I’m “BRBing” them.

Man, am I going to miss Canada. It’s been beautiful, kind, and the very essence of home. I can rest my head in my house in my room knowing that I’m completely safe. This is the last night in that bed for the next three months (back for a few weeks then going back to England for the rest of the year). It’s strange to think that the next bed I sleep in is going to be English. The next bed I sleep in is going to tell a story.

Butterflies are throwing up in my stomach, but I think I’m ready. Wishing everyone else who’s about to travel soon very much luck. Keep a leveled head and remember your time spent chasing that dream. 

-Nora

"If impossible things are happening every day, then why shouldn’t I have impossible hopes and dreams?" 

"You block your dream when you allow your fear to grow bigger than your faith." 

Okay, four days until I leave. Sublime. And I’ve finally begun to feel that momentary sheer terror of the fact that it’s all coming true. Not that I’m bawling my eyes out telling myself that I don’t want to leave. It’s just the momentary swoop in your stomach, the one you get right before the roller coaster slows down then plummets. This blog entry is going to be about my fears/anxieties/concerns, except that instead of just leaving myself in the dark, I’m going to rationalize each and every one. Here it goes:

• Family
• Passport Control
• Who my “Kitchen Mates” will be
• My safety
• Class

Family:

My parents, my aunt, and my sisters—- I don’t want them to get all weepy on me at the airport. That would really dampen my spirits. I know they love me and I’m definitely not going to be cruel and tell them not to cry, but I just want to leave knowing that I’m not bothering anybody by leaving, and I REALLY don’t want to cry either. It’s tough watching other people cry without crying (for me, anyway).

I shall conquer this fear by telling myself the following:

1. Their reaction is normal and they will eventually get used to it
2. Me leaving the nest a little bit emptier would have happened eventually. I mean, if it wasn’t on Friday, then it would be for grad school or when I get married. It would have to happen and the sooner, the better.
3. I have my two friends, Nicole and Shelby by my side on the plane. That’s right, there are two other girls going to the same university with me. And although we’re going to live in different residences, I’m going to be there for them and I know that they’re good people that I can depend on as well. I am not alone and we’ll help each other get our spirits up if we need it. 

Passport Control at Heathrow Airport:

Well I really wouldn’t want to get deported back into Canada, now would I? This is the way my scared side feels about it: I’m going to be jet lagged like hell. Why? Because by the time I land in London, England, it’ll be two in the morning in Canada. What if they ask me something and I’m so nervous or so tired that it goes in through one ear and out the other and I don’t know how to respond? And what if I don’t have one of the documents they ask for? 

Damn you, Fear!:

1. I always stay up till 2AM… enough said.
2. They’ll expect me to be somewhat jet lagged
3. I look like a student and I’m going to answer every question as honestly as possible and if I don’t understand something, I’ll just say, “I beg your pardon?” and be very polite. Say “yes/no, ma’am” or “yes/no, sir” a lot.
4. I am a Canadian citizen and everybody loves Canadians. Fine, that might be a bit too much to depend on, but I put every document I have used to obtain my English Visa along with me so I should be alright. I’m also going to assume that since I have obtained the visa, they will not ask for much more (everybody always complains about having to wait in line for long periods of time for a stupid short conversation with the officer anyway…). 
5. I am not the only one going through this, they are trained to spot out the phonies and the honest people. Many people have gone through this before.

My “Kitchen Mates”:

The way it works in my hall of residence is that instead of floor mates, you get “kitchen mates” meaning that you share a kitchen with a certain number of people (I’m not sure how many). I’m scared that I won’t like many of these people/many of these people won’t like me. I’m also scared that things will get clique-y. Why should I limit myself to just my kitchen? I want to make close friends that I can talk to. My cousin, who went to Japan on her exchange said, “Over there, your friends are your family,” so it would really suck if I made no friends, but all that sounds silly because:

1.  My priorities are mainly school and I won’t let myself forget that
2. Fearing that nobody will like you in a foreign country seems perfectly plausible and I know that it’s a fear that many people have had and found to be complete bullocks.
3. I am a lovely, sweet, friendly, open, and caring person and as long as I treat others with kindness, warmth, and respect, I usually get the same in return. 
4. That’s such a negative attitude towards meeting new people and it’s also doubting other people’s sense of sociability and their personalities. It definitely wouldn’t be fair to rule that out before even meeting them
5. Once again, if all else fails, I have Nicole and Shelby <3

My Safety: (enough said)

1. I’m not going into the boonies. Hatfield happens to be a town that’s MUCH quieter than the metropolitan London.
2. I’m not stupid. I will not make bad decisions, and I will always make sure that I don’t go out into the dark alone or allow someone to convince me to do something stupid that will get me hurt. 
3. I’m pretty paranoid as it is so it won’t be difficult doing what I said above :P
4. I have been constantly reassured that the campuses are very safe places and that I will be completely fine. Just stay in light areas and even if I have a class in the evening, walk out in the open near a group of people (I don’t care if I look like a creeper. I’d rather be a creeper than get raped, which won’t happen)
5. I trust that my exchange coordinators at the University of Windsor wouldn’t choose a place that would jeopardize the safety of any of their exchange students. 
6. Want to know something hilarious? I saw this post on this website from a student saying that he wanted to come to Canada but he was scared because he didn’t know how safe it was! That made me DIE laughing. Canada, to me, is so nice and safe. It isn’t perfect, but you’ll be totally and completely fine unless you’re by yourself at 3AM in an alley downtown. I’m sure that it’s really quite the same and it made me feel a lot better knowing that someone over there would probably laugh at me saying what that other guy said.

Class:

The teaching methods/lectures/tutorials over in the UK are really different from Canada. It’s more interactive (more talking in front of the class and more group work) and I’m not used to that. Also, in Canada, it’s actually illegal (it’s a bylaw) to make one assignment/exam worth more than 50% of the student’s mark. In England, game on. So that means that I could enter a class where 100% of my mark is based on one three hour exam or essay.

1. Before/When my classes start, I will go and talk to my lecturers, let them know that I am a Canadian exchange student who is very enthusiastic about her classes and studies (which I am). This will probably make me feel more comfortable in class and if I need help at any point, I won’t be scared to go speak to them.
2. I’m sure that people will find me just as intriguing as I find them. The reason: accents. Haha, but in all seriousness, if I put my mind to it, I can come up with a unique and educated answer to share with my class and if it’s something I’m going to have to do for the whole year, I can get used to it.
3. I am very adaptable, I can manage my time wisely, and I know when to ask for help when I need it. All I have to do is what I’ve been doing all throughout university: make good notes, use the proper research tools, talk to the professor about my ideas, and ask for clarification on something I don’t understand.

This made me feel a lot better and now I have something to refer to whenever those fears gnaw at me. Things will be more wonderful than I could ever imagine :)

-Nora