I am so proud of myself for traveling on my own. For accomplishing my dream. For LIVING, breathing, consuming my dream. It was such an accomplishment, and I have never been prouder of myself for doing something as spontaneous and bold as what I did. To say that I was able to navigate around a country, a very foreign country where I did not speak the language, where I did not know the people, and where I did not have any idea about the culture, well, I know now that I can be put anywhere, and I will survive. I will not only survive, but I will thrive. I will make friends, I will find the way, I will build a new life, no matter where I go. Yes, I will get lost, and yes, I will lose sight of which direction I am supposed to go in, but it’s all part of the process, it’s all part of the plan. My mental walls categorizing the things I can and cannot do have been broken down and I know that anything is possible; the word impossible is now extinct from this girl’s vocabulary. For the first time ever, I proved to myself that me and me alone will make my wildest hopes and dreams come true. I am creating the life that I want, without needing to hold the hand of anyone.
I am empowered. I am fearless. I am reborn.
Many people shove away the idea of doing anything by themselves, let alone traveling alone, but the ones that do, the ones that make that commitment to conquer something completely on their own, the ones that take their feet off the edge of the cliff and jump into the unknown, they learn, that they, in fact, have wings.