Looking back at my last 24 years I have to think about the last 10, because before that there isn't much to think about. 10 years ago I was in high school, a clueless freshman, more concerned with who I was sitting with at lunch than with anything else. Then all of a sudden I was 17 and ready to graduate with trips to New York City, Hawaii and Italy under my belt. (I blame/thank Napa High Choir for giving me my original travel bug.) College came next, along with moving away from home for the first time. Dorm life, dining halls and absolutely no one (save a killjoy RA) telling me what to do. I was playing Division 1 water polo and trying to maintain my GPA, one of the most difficult things I've ever done in my life. After sophomore year I was desperate to find myself, learning that perhaps UCSB wasn't right for me. I took a leap I never imagined taking and dropped everything and moved to San Francisco with two of my best friends, got a job, and lived (mostly) on my own for the first time in my life. I paid my rent and bills and I was really proud of myself at the tender age of 20, feeling for the first time like I was really capable of taking care of myself.
And then it was back to UCSB because despite everything, SFSU didn't want me and well, if they didn't want me then I certainly didn't want them. The easiest course of action appeared to me to be to re-enroll at UCSB and finish my degree there. I was almost 2 years older and a great deal wiser and felt that I could tackle the place that had once, at the risk of sounding dramatic, sucked out my soul and put it through a woodchipper. Yeah, I went there. I moved in with some Swedes and somewhere between desperately trying to find a job and tanning out in the January heat wave, Chile madness overtook me. I wanted to learn Spanish (by the way I changed my major from English to Spanish somewhere in the whole mess, for some reason), I wanted to live abroad, I wanted to experience a new culture and I wanted to DO something. Something really cool.
And so I set out on my quest to get to Chile. I applied to the study abroad program and jumped through approximately 3,457 hoops to get accepted and get my visa. A year later I was on a plane to Santiago with a girl I barely knew from Spanish class. I have never been simultaneously more terrified and more excited about anything.
Of course, Chile was everything I hoped it would be. It was crazy, exciting, stressful, amazing, adjectives adjectives adjectives. I made some friends that I will never forget. I had a multitude of experiences I will never forget. I fell in love, both with the country and with someone I met there. In six months I had more experiences than I ever knew I could in a lifetime. As soon as I got home I was itching to go back and between getting my heart broken and graduating with the best GPA I'd ever received in college (Dean's List, what what!) I figured out how to get back while furthering myself on the path I'd chosen for myself: to become an ESL teacher.
Which brings me to now. 8 more months in Santiago, Chile. 8 months of fully supporting myself (with the occasional generous donation from family members), of working full time as a professor of English and of learning what it really feels like to be a responsible adult. I've made lifelong friends here this time around too and will always look back at this year with fondness and gratefulness.
So, I guess I didn't grow up overnight. It's been a very long time coming.
Oh, also, for my birthday I went surfing. I'm addicted. Here are some pictures.
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