Beginning

                I left home a month ago. I packed everything I owned into 4 suitcases, spare for the few scarves I stuffed into my cloth guitar case. Then, saying goodbye to everyone I love, I hopped on a a plane out of Hartsfield-Jackson Atlanta, and was on my way to London-Heathrow. Exciting, right? Yeah, of course, but it wasn't easy.

I was always the kid who dreamed of university. I know how cliche that sounds, but it's true. When I was younger, I was absolutely convinced that to learn anything, I had to get a degree in it. Loved looking at space documentaries? Of course, I had to become an astronaut at Astronaut Academy. Duh. Fell in love with cooking? Culinary degree. Magnetic dress-up dolls? Fashion degree. Fell in love with cool houses? An architecture and an engineering degree were the only answers. What's only about a couple of million dollars to a child's imagination? Even with all these ideas, there was only one thing I knew for sure I loved. 

But when my parents pulled me out of school towards the end of 7th grade, when I was just 13, I was devastated. A straight-A student who toured Duke University with a promise that if I just worked hard enough, I could make it. That wasn't my mother's dream for me. She wanted me to work on the family homestead. Canning vegetables, shoveling goat manure, carrying hay, and dragging logs up hills. She took me out of school so I could be good with my hands, and so the wifi didn't rot my brain. I might have been a different person if she hadn't lived with the mind she did. She started fighting daily with my dad and me. Scary stuff, I won't delve into because this isn't therapy. Years of abuse worsened. I spent my time looking at homeschooling websites, "What do you learn in 8th grade science", Khan Academy, and reading everything I could get my hands on. One moment that sticks with me to this day was something said during a heated argument between the two of us. She backed away from me and yelled, "You will never go to college." The saddest part wasn't even that in that moment I believed her, but that she genuinely thought she was protecting me. To cap this part of the story off, I moved states away with my dad and eventually received funding from my grandmother and father to attend an accredited online school. I finished 5 years in basically 3. I struggled with motivation and shitty online relationships. It's hard to love writing your own essays when you find out the ex who's asked you to write their essays is cheating on you. 

Anyways, 4 years later, and I'm taking a break. Moving in with my aunt and uncle in a slightly bigger city in hopes of falling in love with the school there and gaining a perspective switch. I took a gap year after I graduated to work. I got a car. Got diagnosed with obsessive-compulsive disorder. I made lifelong friends and memories. All while figuring out what I wanted to do with my life. How can I turn my passions into money? I started an Etsy clothing brand with my beautiful girlfriend, whom I had met 8 months prior. I promise, eventually I'll write a post all about how our story aligns with my current journey. To summarize, we met online, almost 4000 miles apart. Dahlonega, Georgia, to Bourne, England. We had many late nights, jotting down hoodie, shirt, mug, and bag designs. This wasnt it though. I looked for freelance writing jobs. The one passion I've never lost. Why should people trust me, though? Am I good enough at writing and form and grammar, and spelling? I took up work at fast food restaurants and corporate coffee shops. I wanted to go to school for English, but to do what? Film? Screenwriting? Drama? Playwriting? Teaching? Schools aren't safe. Writing? Novels? All passions I know I have the skills to refine. Then November 5th came. Donald Trump came into office. It was like there was a wet sheet over the house that day. Knowing the country had failed me as I was born a woman, queer, and a second-generation immigrant. I cried. I yelled. I posted. I argued. I contemplated. I was numb. The conversations between my partner changed from the ideas of her looking for drama schools in the U.S to me asking the question, Do I want to learn in this environment? Then the news stories of the arrests during protests on campuses and the lists of research grants that had cut their funding came out. How could I learn in an environment where women, queer, inclusive, and transgender were words that were banned from research rooms?

What would it take for me to get into a school abroad? My content creation and cosplay hobbies had gained me friendships in England, and I know the language, of course. Where else to study English?? I toured schools online, looked at courses, funding, and studied for my SAT. I spent months looking at schools, cities, weather, courses, and accommodations. Then, in April, I finally saved enough money to visit. I met my lovely partner in person, and together we looked at schools (online and in-person) in London, Cambridge, Chichester, and Leeds. It was so different from the U.S. Yards became gardens, plastic became paper, reading allergen labels became easy, vegan food became accessible, and I was walking again. Life was slow and thoughtful and full of amazing conversations with people whose lives I could only imagine while drunk on a barstool, the love of my life's legs draped over my own. I was never meant for frats and dorms. I was meant for ivy-covered brick walls and wisteria and live music and pubs. To the people who live here, it isn't that romantic. I was told, "You'll love it till you end up at the job office." And that's true, life isn't easy and incredible all the time. 

I didn't get into the schools I really wanted to. But I got into one in a city I loved, near the girl I loved. I looked back over the course of the school I got into and wondered if it was still something I really wanted. I read about the amazing teachers and the hands-on approach. I threw myself into getting the funding and sorting out a place to live, and getting my study visa. And now, here I am. One month in Leeds and absolutely loving it. Have I cried a handful of times because I don't understand the brands or the electric or the roads or the slang here? Have I missed my family and friends with every bone in my body? Absolutely. This is only the beginning, and I can't wait to see what I'll discover next. 

PS. Here are a few photos of my past month's adventures.