Never have I felt so filled, yet so empty. Charles Dickens explains my situation well in the opening line of A Tale of Two Cities: “It was the best of times, it was the worst of times.” I felt completely torn between having the time of my life and wanting nothing more than to go home. Studying abroad is, in fact, the most fulfilling and rewarding thing you can do in college; however, I will be the first to say that it is also the most draining and difficult. But just because it was hard certainly does not mean that it wasn’t worth it. And I have to say . . . it was completely worth it.
Upon my return from studying at SVF in Sweden, I was frequently asked the convenient conversation starter, “How was Sweden?” To which I found myself providing a variety of answers. I openly shared personal details and anecdotes with some people, while shielding aspects of my experience with others. No one knows the true story of my time in Sweden–not even me. It already feels like a distant memory. I look at the photos see the familiar faces of the friends I spent both the most rewarding and challenging four months of my life–and it just doesn’t feel real. I have pictures of me standing in front of the Eiffel Tower, the Roman Colosseum, and Big Ben, but I am still struggling to process the fact that I was there just a few months ago. I spent a semester on another continent, in a different country, learning an unfamiliar language, and eating cultural food; however, since I’ve been back at ϳԹ, that experience has felt like more of a fantastical adventure. And in a way, it was. I was living in a dream–my childhood dream of traveling Europe. It was euphoric, incredibly brilliant, simply life-changing. But it was also taxing, strenuous, and exhausting.
In the wise words of Bilbo Baggins, “It’s a dangerous business going out of your door. You step into the road, and if you don’t keep your feet, there is no knowing where you might be swept off to” (LOTR). By moving to a different country, I had exposed myself to the elements of the world. In America, I know what to do, where to go, what to say . . . for the most part. I am comfortable. Living in Sweden, I was surrounded by a new language and culture. By the end of the day, I was exhausted and not just from the wear and tear of going through the day. It was partly due to having to adjust to a different environment and way of life. Even trying to process the Swedish language wore me out. I was uncomfortable, but I was thankful to be. We grow and change when we’re uncomfortable and when we’re challenged and pushed to our limits. In those moments, we don’t break–we rise. So even though I felt strained and overwhelmed by the unfamiliarity, I knew that the familiarity and comfort would come with time.
With each passing day, I appreciated the country and culture of Sweden, along with my overall experience, more and more. I appreciated walking out of my dorm every morning to see the sun rising over the city of Jönköping and Lake Vättern, Friday fika and Ica runs, the peace and quiet of SVF, having late night talks with my roommate, FaceTiming my family from the basement of my dorm at midnight, Pepparkakor and glögg, having to use a converter whenever I needed to charge my phone, daily morning fika, and having to wear reflective bracelets to avoid being hit by cars since it would get dark by 3:00. It would’ve been so easy to take the little things for granted, but the little things are what made the opportunity so special.
I really enjoyed getting to know Sweden’s lifestyle. Generally speaking, life in Sweden simply happens at a slower pace; people aren’t in as much of as rush. They multitask less and focus on the moment more. Swedes also tend to be more reserved and humble and not as showy and flashy as Americans. I love how Swedes routinely pause throughout the day for fika breaks; they’re very good at being communal and forming deep relationships over time. And that’s another thing I appreciated about Sweden—they take all relationships seriously.
Studying abroad pushed me to grow in ways I hadn’t anticipated beforehand. I grew in my confidence and independence, and I learned to rely on myself in a whole new way. It was the longest I have ever been away from my family, meaning that I had to accept the fact that I couldn’t always rely on them to hold my hand. Apart from relying on myself, I also had to rely more heavily on those around me. I had to accept the fact that I needed to place my trust in my peers and to accept the idea of vulnerability. Sweden did leave me vulnerable—vulnerable and raw, my protective walls peeled away. Shedding these skins hurt, but it allowed new ones to replace the old, and these new skins have made me stronger and more resilient than ever before. And I owe all of this change to my decision to leave my comfort zone and take on an adventure of a lifetime, my adventure in Sverige.