Leaving Home

Hi there :) I wasn’t really sure what I wanted to write for the first edition of The Armchair Traveler, but I figured the best introduction is my own. My first time ever leaving home was to move 4,242 miles (6,827 kilometers) away; this included four flights, eighteen hours on the floor of the JFK airport, and lots of tears.

I started thinking about moving abroad when I was in middle school; I used to be obsessed with the British TV show Doctor Who (don’t get me wrong, I still love it), and I remember the years I would tell my mom that I wanted to move to England, get a British accent, and marry someone British. As I got older, I started looking into universities in the United Kingdom as well as summer programs for high school students, but then Covid-19 hit, and nobody was traveling. During that time, I decided to act on my desire to move abroad. I researched English-taught programs in Europe, I looked into the best countries to live in, and I found a few sites that could help with applications and visas. I made so many lists of pros and cons, best programs, coolest cities… moving abroad was something I had wanted to do for years and I had the opportunity to actually do it, so I did.

When I decided to move to Prague, it came after an acceptance to an American university in Paris which was an absurd amount of money per year, after looking into schools in the UK and deciding that I didn’t want to complete a foundation year before I started my studies, and after a lot of narrowing down of applications. It was a lot of after’s, and I spent countless hours on my computer before I made the decision. I only applied to four universities — one outside of Washington, D.C., one that offered me two years in Madrid and two years in Boston, one in Paris, and one in Prague. In all honesty, I applied to the Czech Republic mostly because the school was small and it seemed like a decent program that was affordable and in a nice city. I wanted the entire undergraduate experience abroad, but since I couldn’t afford Paris, I decided to go with Prague. It was kind of anticlimactic if I’m being realistic; I was so undecided toward what program I wanted to be in and the only thing I knew was that I wanted to be far away from where I grew up.

I come from a really small town in Western Pennsylvania. Everyone knew eachother, everyone was related, everyone stayed there. They weren’t the most accepting of newcomers, or most people outside of the white hick population which resided there. I have a lot of feelings about where I came from, and because of that I knew I never wanted to stay there. Moving abroad to me was allowing myself to learn about other people, to learn different cultures, cuisines, traditions, languages. Having the ability to travel to another country in the amount of time it would take me to drive to another state seemed unthinkable. And here I am two years later, having been to nineteen countries, taken in the most incredible architecture, and met extremely genuine and unique individuals everywhere I’ve travelled. In my university alone, I’m usually the only American in my classes, with professors and classmates from around the world who have incredible viewpoints that they share with me. Moving here has been such a cultural exposure, and for that I could never regret any part of it, complications an all.

The first flight from home was probably one of saddest and most exhilarating experiences of my life. We all knew what was coming, but I didn’t want to talk about the fact that we were saying goodbye. I sat in my room before I had to leave, hugging my cat and sobbing quietly into his fur. Leaving eighteen years of memories in one place while you continue on feels selfish. I cried when I hugged my family, and I cried through the TSA line, and I cried a bit on the flight. But I also laughed, and buzzed with excitement, and had butterflies from the nerves, and felt so open to the world. The process leading up to that wasn’t easy — visas are a bitch, especially in a country that speaks a language different than your native one. I’ll save my visa stories for another post, though. Packing was a nightmare (who would’ve thought you can’t pack everything you own into three suitcases). I also did this thing where I didn’t tell anyone where I was going to college until I committed and quite literally was actively moving there; I think that was around February of my senior year. I’m a very impressionable person, and I knew that this was a decision that I wanted to fully trust within myself without other people’s opinions or pressure. So in that sense, telling people was a bit of an obstacle, because I had to navigate first saying it, then clarifying that yes, I was going to the Czech Republic, and yes, it was for my entire degree, and yes, I knew it was really far and I wouldn’t be able to come home that often. There are just a lot of hiccups to get past when you decide to uproot your life and move abroad the first time you’re ever actually moving away from your family.

Since I moved to Prague in August of 2021, I’ve taken a semester off, moved back home, moved back to Prague, changed my major, transferred schools, and now here I am, finally at peace with my placement, about to uproot my life in around 240 days when I graduate university. I have plenty of travel stories, visa stories, advice on finding apartments and friends, and reflections on the last few years of my life. With any major life decision, there are things that could go wrong, and for me there are a lot of things that didn’t go to plan. But, I will be completely honest with you — I don’t have any regrets, and everything that went wrong taught me a lesson. I know that sounds cliché, but it’s true, and it’s such a valuable thing to be able to take with me in the next stage of my life. This segment of the blog is to honor all of the aspects of traveling which have taught me something, and whether you want to move abroad yourself, you’d like to hear travel stories, or you want to connect over a shared experience, The Armchair Traveler is open to you.

My grandma calls herself my Armchair Traveler; she says that because I always text her and send her pictures of my travels, it’s like she’s traveling alongside me. This segment was inspired by her, and by all of the people in my life (whether I know you or not) who are traveling alongside me. I hope you enjoy.