Samantha Hirschman | Blogger

Study abroad is hard. Easily the hardest thing I have done so far in the twenty years of my life. It is challenging and tests my personality every day.

From the outside looking in, I’m sure people think it should be easy. “You’re over in a different country and are traveling Europe. You should be having fun. You should be loving it. Why would you miss home?” I’ve heard it all. I’ve heard that I shouldn’t have a countdown. I’ve heard that I shouldn’t hate being here. I’ve also heard that I should be appreciating it more.

Unless you are in my exact position, you really don’t know the difficulties that I am experiencing or the pain I am continuously suffering. It’s hard being here – 5,000 miles away from home. Simply take my word for it: it’s hard and there is no way to prepare yourself for what you may experience.

Recently, I’ve been told by a few people how they love seeing my photos and are enjoying my blog. They say, “You look like you are so happy! Looks like you’re having so much fun!” Here’s my response: It’s something different, that’s for sure. I can’t say I’m not having fun, because then I would be lying. It’s definitely fun sometimes. I love travel. However, it’s not just travel. It’s much more than that. I’m living in another country.

Imagine yourself by yourself somewhere far enough away that you can’t travel home in one day. Imagine this place is too expensive to go home at all. Imagine having a difficult time contacting home, and a place where you are alone.

That’s me. I went to Italy by myself. Sure I’ve met people here, but they still aren’t my friends back home, not my boyfriend. They aren’t my family. They cannot fill the piece of me that is love. Most are from the coasts, where I will maybe see them one or two more times in my life. I’m in a place that I don’t have anyone coming to visit me. A city that is 500 times the size of my hometown of Cherokee. I use public transportation, something I’d never used before. A country I don’t speak the language and struggle every time I try to buy something. And having no sort of income has resulted in borrowing money from my younger sister.

The levels of my emotions I feel about this experience are complex and extend for many layers. It’s extremely hard to put into words the way I feel.