As of today, I will have been in Spain eight weeks. In some ways, it feels a lot longer. Part of that is because I get used to new situations quickly, and I’ve done the big move to another country before. The other part is that I can still use the internet to speak to my friends, watch the same shows, and generally keep to the same routines I had in America.
Sometimes, it’s hard to grasp how big of a change it really is. If I look at the big picture, it gives me a panic attack, so I tend to look at the small steps and little changes. That’s probably why I keep forgetting what a huge move I made.
I’m learning the city, biking around without a map more often than not. I know the hours of grocery stores and I’m starting to remember that nothing can be done between 2pm and 5pm because of siesta.
My Spanish is improving, slowly, and every week I meet new friends.
I think, when you’re looking at a big life change, it appears to be massive and all changing, but it really isn’t. I’m still me, for better or worse. I made a conscious effort when I arrived in Spain to try and drop some of my bad habits. A new beginning so clearly defined is a great excuse to try and implement positive changes.
I’m still shaky on them… I don’t meditate or do yoga every day, but I do one or the other most days. I eat fruit every morning for breakfast, and cook for myself 90% of the time. I don’t write as much as I want, and sometimes I spend the afternoon watching British TV shows when I should be applying for jobs.
It’s ok though! I can’t be the person who gets mad at myself for falling short on goals. One truth that keeps coming up for me during this move is that I am so much harder on myself than I ever have been on another person. Like, ridiculously so. I have literally had conversations with myself where I say ‘What have you even done lately?’ and then have to remind myself ‘Oh… yeah, moved to Spain. That’s something… I guess.’
I’m still nervous that this won’t work out, that somehow I’ll fail and have to move back to America. The thing is, though, that no matter what I can’t fail, because I tried. I made a huge decision and took a risk, and there is nothing I could have done to fail except not try in the first place.
This move, as with everything in life, was in theory much more scary and challenging than the reality of it.
Isn’t that the way it always is, though? Trying something big and new seems so daunting when you’re thinking about it and once you commit to the decision, you simply make it work. You have good and bad days, same as everyone else, but at the end of it, you’ve made a promise to yourself to make a go of it.
Life is never as scary as your own mind will make it out to be. If I can do this, I know that all of y’all can do whatever it is you’ve been wanting to do too!