It’s nearly here. I feel like I’ve been waiting for a lifetime. Yet simultaneously, the past 6 months have absolutely flown by. As if in some kind of sci-fi space time continuum. Nonetheless, in 2 days I’ll be setting off for a semester in France. I guess this is kind of going to be about how I’m feeling about the experience as a whole.
The Experience.
For me, this is the only preconceived notion I’m taking with me. It’s going to be an experience. I’ve heard mixed reviews about Angers, probably more bad than good. While I took it all on board, I don’t want to go with tinted glasses. I have no expectations. Some people take their tea without sugar, I prefer mine with 2. Everyone is different. So while I appreciate your perspective, I’m waiting to see what it has in store for me. Life is what you make of it, I’m determined to make the most of my time in Angers. Each experience can be a positive one, but it’s up to you to make it that way. I try not to get bogged down on the negative in my life, everything I’ve been through for better or worse has taught me something. So, how bad are negative experiences if you better yourself because of them? It’s all perspective.
Nerves?
I’d be a complete lier if I tried to play cool. Am I nervous? Absolutely. I’m not nervous for the travelling aspect of it. I’m very comfortable being away from home. Almost too comfortable. I’m scared for the linguistic element of my journey. My French is appalling. Truly, deeply, abysmal. I know I’m going to improve, I refuse to allow myself to spend the next 6 months speaking English. I guess it comes down to fear. Fear of immersion, fear of failure, fear of being laughed at. Speaking is a pretty big deal for me. I know that sounds dumb, but it is. I didn’t speak much as a kid, I spoke less as a teenager, but now I’m finally speaking up for myself. So to try and get to that stage with a language I’m in noway comfortable or confident in is going to be a challenge. I know I can do it. It’s just scary. I guess its’s comparable my distaste for water – the large bodies, not the drink. I’m not scared of a glass of water. When I took swimming lessons as a kid I had an irrational fear of jumping into the pool, I could swim perfectly fine, I’d jumped into the pool before, I knew I wouldn’t sink and drown. But for some reason I was always scared to throw myself into the water. The initial impact is the hardest thing to get over. I’m anxious for the first time someone spits rapid-fire French at me and I have absolutely no idea of what is going on. I’m nervous having to set up my classes. What if I’m sat being taught entirely in French and I have no idea what’s being said. If I learn nothing in the classroom, I’ll learn something about myself. How will I react in these situations? Not a clue. But it’s all part of the experience, and there’s something to be gained from that.
I guess my overriding feeling is one of openness. I’m open to the good and the bad that’ll inevitably come with it. Open to experience whatever comes across my path along the way. Someone once told me that everything can be fun if you put the effort into making it that way. Well, here goes nothing I guess!
Until next time,
Flynn! x
Let's go on an adventure. 