Reverse Culture Shock

Tearful reunion with me madre.

What happens when you leave your small town home a teenager who has never lived on her own or been out of the States, and return to that same small town a woman who has had the opportunity to experience life in way she never thought possible?

Does the food taste bland after eating pizza in Italy, kebabs in Greece, and crepes in France?

Do you feel like a cog in a machine, doing the same thing over and over again but never going anywhere, left to a dismal life that only creaks to halt when you are rusty?






Uhmm, NO. That was needlessly dramatic. It's been a week since I've been back -- I'm going to school full-time and have started waitressing at my old job again. Things are the same... but different. In a good way.

I'm an ISEP Ambassador (International Study Abroad Program) so I volunteer to talk about my time spent abroad to potential students. I signed up for the International Friendship Program and am paired with a lovely Chinese student who is studying at my home university, to show her and several other foreign exchange students around and do fun nights out with them. I also changed my major from Pre-Nursing to Psychology, because I found out I wasn't really passionate about being a nurse while I was abroad. Learn new things every day.

I'm already researching if it is possible for me to get my Masters degree in Berlin, and am throwing myself into my German class in the hopes that if I can, I will actually be able to string some sentences together. Also signed up for the German club, 'cause hey, why not meet some cool Deutschophiles? Plus I have been dying to try out the German restaurant called Freiburgs and they are holding a meeting there this semester. Yum.

In conclusion, "Reverse Culture Shock" is probably a thing. But it's an awesome thing--getting to see your familiar surroundings with a new perspective and appreciation. Everyone seemed to be afraid that I had outgrown this small town in Tennessee, but it isn't the town that is important, but the life I'm living here. And you can't outgrow life. At least I hope not. I-Is that a thing? Should I be worried?

P.S. After living out of a suitcase for six months, I cannot tell you how happy I was to see my closet full of clothing and shoes. So I'll show you.


It was beautiful.

xoxo!