P.S. My First Month in England

Today marks one full month of living in England, which is insane to type out and fully acknowledge at this moment.

I am currently in my third week of classes and everything is falling into place—I think. The transition from university in the United States to postgraduate studies in the United Kingdom has been surprisingly easy and I haven't felt overwhelmed in the slightest, which makes me feel overwhelmed because I feel like I should be feeling overwhelmed—if that makes any sense.

Within the past month of living abroad, I have learned and experienced so many new and exciting things that I hadn't even considered before I moved here. It's interesting, really, how prepared you think you are for something and yet once you finally get there (whatever it may be), you realise how silly you were for thinking that you could be fully prepared. I have experienced a multitude of challenges in England thus far and I am sure there will be plenty more to come. Why did no one tell me how difficult it was to open a bank account in the UK?

My emotions have been all over the place since the move, which is also something that I wasn't prepared for. I have wanted to move to the United Kingdom for roughly three years now, so I thought that once I landed and got settled in my new home I would just feel comfortable and content—

Wrong.

I have felt a range of emotions since I've been here and I still can't fully process them myself. Each day is a little different. Somedays I feel guilty for moving abroad and leaving behind my entire life to follow my own dreams—which feels really selfish when I start to overthink it at 11 pm when I can't fall asleep—and other days I feel like this is the best decision I have ever made and all I want to do is make this my permanent home.

The thing about moving abroad is that I don't think I will ever feel fully comfortable anymore. Everything is outside of my comfort zone now and I'm still considered an outsider in this community. Even if I moved back to the United States after this academic year, I wouldn't be 'going home' per se, because the United States no longer feels like home anymore. When I left the U.S., I left my life as I knew it behind in a way that I will never fully get back, which makes my transition into English culture and trying to plant my roots here so overwhelming. I've also hit that age—twenty-five, almost twenty-six—where all I truly want is to feel settled somewhere, but I fear that life isn't attainable in my near future.

It's a strange back-and-forth of emotions but overall I have truly been trying to enjoy every moment, even if sometimes those moments involve putting in my headphones and crying on my walk home in the rain after leaving my umbrella behind in my flat that morning.

On another note, moving to England has also landed me some of the most genuine friends that I have ever met in my entire life. It truly feels like fate or love at first sight—not sure which, maybe both—when I start to describe the friendship I have with these girls after three weeks of knowing each other. I mean, what are the chances that on the same day, we all found each other, went to a free swing dancing class, and instantly became best friends? Very low because that scenario sounds insane, even for me. However, ever since that day, we have been inseparable.

I have also been able to travel around a bit since I've been here—which has made me so happy! One of my biggest fears was that I'd never have the time to explore new places, but I was thankfully wrong about that assumption and I plan to visit many more places sooner rather than later. Since the move, I have stayed in London for a few days and have most recently travelled around Bakewell in Derbyshire with my friend from Nottingham.

While the Bakewell and Morsal Head journey will be for its own designated travel blog, I will say that it was like walking through one of the dreamiest English villages that I've visited and now all I think about is that I wish I could go back in time, literally, and just sit on a bench there and write a book about it. Unfortunately, I can't just write a narrative while life passes me by on the streets of Bakewell because I have other obligations, but someday I hope that I can create a "room of my own" like Virginia Woolf would've wanted.

To conclude my "First Month of Living in England" blog, I just want to say that I've been rereading The Bell Jar by Silvia Plath and I am fully resonating with the book again as I am also grappling with choices and the pressures of societal expectations. For anyone who doesn't know of the prominent 'fig tree analogy,' let me explain what I mean:

The book describes how Esther, the novel's protagonist, looks at a fig tree laden with ripe figs, each representing a different potential life path or opportunity. As she stands before this tree, she feels overwhelmed by the abundance of choices—each fig symbolises a different future: marriage, career, travel, artistic pursuits, etc. However, Esther is paralysed by indecision; she cannot choose which fig to pick. This moment captures her internal conflict and anxiety about her future—which is everything that I am feeling in this season of my life.

Moreover, the imagery of the figs also highlights how each choice comes with its own set of consequences and sacrifices. By choosing one fig—or path—she ultimately must forgo other options and opportunities. Sadly, this reflects my current experience as a mid-twenties woman living abroad faced with similar dilemmas in an increasingly complex world filled with options but also heightened expectations.

In essence, I'd like to sign off on this blog by saying that I'm just a girl who is taking my little English life day by day and slowly falling in love with the life I'm building for myself, even if I have no idea what is next for me in this season of life. x

(also if you take anything from this post, please read The Bell Jar by Silvia Plath)