Finding myself in England

When my life suddenly blew up at the age of 28, I found myself in an interesting situation. My 5 year marriage had failed, and I didn’t have a clear career path. I was left wondering what the hell to do with my life. I had to go deep. What was it that lit me up? That made me passionate?

What to do?

I loved history and architecture and was passionate about saving old buildings. So after much soul searching, I settled on a plan to go back to school for a graduate degree in Historic Conservation. Instinctively I knew though, that just continuing my education wasn’t enough of an adventure to shake up my life in a significant way. To make my new life more worthwhile, I decided to go to the source: to Europe, where there were more historic buildings than you could shake a stick at. And I would study at one of the oldest centers of education: Oxford, England.

It was decided. In just a few short months, I was able to get some student loans, change back to my maiden name, sell off everything I owned and get the hell outta dodge. Miraculously my visa arrived just the day before I was to leave. It was meant to be.

I bought a one way ticket to a country I had never been to, and barely looked back.

I had never been to Europe before. It was scary, it was exciting, it was so so good. And to be able to study historic architecture older than I could ever imagine? What?!? It was a dream come true! I poured over the course syllabus again and again like a kid, not believing that I was actually going to have the opportunity to learn in such an amazing place.

Old world, new me

England exceeded all of my expectations. I was incredibly homesick at first, but then I thrived. Through my graduate course, I met so many international friends. Friends from Spain, Greece, Kosovo, Slovenia, Romania, the USA, and of course the UK.

I found making new friends abroad way easier than I had back home. I had the freedom to be any version of myself that I wanted, because no one had any preconceived notions of me. Any social expectations suddenly melt away when you are around a bunch of strangers. While I used to be shy at home, I found that wasn’t really the case when I was on my own in England. I discovered that I was way more outgoing than I had previously thought I was. But maybe it was due to my being American, in contrast to the more subdued tendencies of the Brits.

Freedom from America

I finally understood what it was like to be free of the American system and way of life. Plenty of things were happening outside of the good ol’ US of A. While in England, it felt as if everyone else (Europe at least) were all part of a global system. A system that in the US we feel so distant from. It is possible that we’re so insular because were so far away and such a large country – but I felt ashamed that my new international friends seemed to know far more about the USA (and the rest of the world) than I did. I longed to stay out there, in what I felt was the “real” world. Outside of the world we create for ourselves in the States.

I also loved being immersed in another culture. In a lot of ways, England was very similar to the US. The same, but different. I loved it. I embraced it. I never wanted to leave.

A new perspective

Gaining some distance from everything familiar helped me to face my demons about myself and my past. Why had my marriage failed? Was I still harboring grief from my father’s passing? Who was I really? What really mattered? What did I not give a fuck about? I was able to find out what really made me tick.

I also learned how to get by with much less than what I was used to. In the old life I had left behind, I was preoccupied with all the things you’re supposed to strive for in middle-class America. A husband, a career, a house, a car, credit cards, and eventually 2.5 kids and a compulsive shopping habit for Starbucks lattes and throw pillows at Target. When I left, I discovered that I didn’t give a shit about any of it.

Making ends meet

As it turned out, my student loan wasn’t enough to cover my living expenses, so I had to get creative to make ends meet. I dispersed fliers at concerts, got poked and prodded at the college’s psych lab, and did odd jobs for friends and professors. I even considered clinical trials for a new tuberculosis vaccine – mom swiftly talked me out of that one.

Finally, I ended up with a steady gig promoting a local walking tour of Oxford. While wearing a sandwich board, I shouted at passers by up and down Cornmarket – the busiest pedestrian thoroughfare in Oxford. For a formerly shy girl from Florida, this was not an easy job. But it allowed me to eat every week, and for that I was grateful.

Being flat broke all the time did have its disadvantages. I was SO CLOSE to continental Europe, yet I had no means of exploring it. It was painful. Some of my new friends would invite me on their travels, but I always had to politely decline.

Oh the places you will go

Exploring England more than made up for the fact that I couldn’t go further abroad. I got to crawl around in the attics of a 13^th century cathedral in Wells. I toured stone quarries deep underground in Bath. I took weekend trips to London to visit the museums and monuments. I took train journeys and hiked the Malvern Hills. I walked the rooftop of Hampton Court Palace for crying out loud! I studied castles, palaces, gardens, parish churches, grand cathedrals and country cottages. I saw and did things I had only dreamed about. It was the adventure of a lifetime!

Through my limited income, I was eventually able to venture out of England a few times. My best friend from home visited and we took a little trip to Dublin and up to Glasgow. And a fellow classmate and I managed to find stupid cheap flights to Ibiza (on Ryanair) for a short whirlwind adventure to Spain’s party isle. Spoiler, we ended up having a really relaxing time instead of a raucous party – and came back with horrendous sunburns.

All good things must come to an end

In going away to England, I had crossed a boundary. I knew my life was going to be different from that point on. My eyes were wide open to all of the possibilities that lay outside of the American bubble I had lived in my whole life. I felt free. My need and desire to explore the bigger world weighed on me like a ton of bricks. I knew I was never going back – at least not to the kind of life I lived before. I couldn’t. I wouldn’t.

But of course I did go back – but not home to Florida, and not to a life that resembled my old one.  I mainly went back for something that I didn’t think would factor in the equation anymore – I went back for a freaking guy. I know, I know….I knooooooooow. But hear me out.

This was not just any guy. This was the man that would become the love of my life. And that’s definitely worth something.

At some point towards the very end of my studies, I felt a shift in perspective. In some ways, I was ready to come home. Although to be honest, I didn’t miss America one bit – except maybe proper Mexican food. Instead, I missed the people I loved physically being in my life. The more I explored, the more I realized that I missed sharing my experiences with people I loved. While working my sandwich board gig on Cornmarket I would see friends, lovers and families meeting and sharing their lives together. I always felt torn. I loved being in Europe, but my heart ached for the people I missed. As my friends all finished up their courses, they began to migrate back to their respective countries. Oxford became emptier and emptier to me. It was time to move on.

Saying goodbye

Saying goodbye to my life in England was one of the hardest things I’ve had to do. Coming from someone who had watched her father die and had recently gone through a divorce – that’s saying something. But right then I vowed: I MUST live globally. No matter what I did for the rest of my life travel -especially international travel- had to be a part of it. It was a part of me then, that yearning to be in other places. A physical ache.

My last night in Oxford I spent delivering gifts to friends – mostly things I had to leave behind – and tried to say my goodbyes. Those people, my classmates, my friends – they had become my family. My life going forward held so many uncertainties. Was I ever going to see any of them again? Would I make it abroad again? I cried –somewhat hysterically – my whole long walk home that night, and didn’t sleep a wink. Early the next morning, I caught the bus to the airport, and flew into the next chapter of my life.

“Someday you’re gonna look back on this moment of your life as such a sweet time of grieving. You’ll see that you were in mourning and your heart was broken, but your life was changing…”
― Elizabeth Gilbert

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