Unlike many of the people I’ve met at LSE who’ve studied and/or lived abroad prior to arriving on campus, I’d never really lived away from home. Sure, I’d moved out for my four years of undergrad and lived on my own, but I was never more than 30km away from my parent’s kitchen when I wanted a homemade meal.

Like a lot of rural areas, where I’m from, people don’t usually leave. If they do, they’re rarely ever further than a quick plane ride home. Of course, there’s nothing wrong with that, but it just wasn’t for me. I felt like I stagnated as a person. Every day felt the same as the one before it, and the one after usually wasn’t any different either. I desperately wanted to explore and experience another way of life, and what better way than to come back to a place half of my family calls home. After well over a year of COVID life living back at home with my parents (which was lovely by the way), I knew it was time.

The times leading up to my arrival may have been some of the most anxious of my life, as you can imagine. If you’re in a similar position, trust me, you’re not alone. Every thought of second-guessing, anxiety, stress, worry – it’s completely natural. I never once fully believed I would ever be here before I arrived, I was constantly doubting myself, but here I am, writing this an Atlantic away from home. If there’s any piece of advice I could give, it’s to find someone in a similar position to you or who’s gone through it before. Knowing I wasn’t alone was critical to my wellbeing.

I’ll be honest, the first few weeks were rough, but it was also one of the most rewarding times of my life. I didn’t have a clue what was going on. I didn’t know a single person, I was jetlagged beyond belief, and I could barely navigate myself to the grocery store two minutes down the road without getting lost. But here’s the silver lining – every single experience was an opportunity for growth. Whether it was going to set up my bank account or going to the grocery store for the first time, it was all about the small wins. Ask my Mum, I swear I called her to celebrate walking on a new street once.

Quite a few months later, here we are. Although sometimes it can still be overwhelming, I can’t imagine my life had I not come here. The friends I’ve made alone have made this experience more than worth it, and that’s just scratching the surface. Opposite before, every day there’s the opportunity to do something brand new and at this point in my life, it was exactly what I needed.

After all of these months in London, I catch myself starting to take things for granted at times – it’s so easy to get caught up in the fast-paced, head-down culture. I almost have to force myself at times to slow down, take a step back, and take it all in. Whether it’s by thinking and reflecting on how far I’ve come, or by simply sitting down at the park, breathing, and recognising how blessed I am to be here – it’s all helped to keep me grounded. The last thing I want to happen after this year is to look back and know that I left stones unturned.

If I had one last piece of advice for anyone who’s received or is waiting for their acceptance letter and is on the fence (if the resources are there and everything has lined up), take the risk. It will be terrifying, but, as the famous cliché goes, the biggest risk of all is not taking any risks.