I'm an average Asian- American 21 year old young adult. I grew up in Chicago, Illinois, moved to New York City to study fashion design, and somehow ended up in Milan, Italy to study abroad for the school year. Maybe it's because I've been through painful moments in my life, maybe it's because I'm an extreme introvert, or maybe it's because I recently broke up with an ex, I don't really know, but I found myself loving spending time alone. I don't consider myself a lonely person. I just love being alone.. alone in my thoughts, alone in my comfort, alone in my everything.
People always say that their experience of studying abroad was the best time of their lives. I could not agree more with that, but the difference is that they were probably referring to all the time they spent with other people. For the first few months, everyone around me let me know, in a gentle way, that there was something wrong with me for not wanting to spend my time with other people. I am currently sitting in my bedroom in Milan thinking about how much more I've fallen in love with myself since I've been here in Italy because of all the time I've spent alone.
Even though I'm here in Italy with a handful of my close friends, I try to go on trips by myself. My first solitary trip was to Liverpool, England. Now, a lot of you might think I chose to go to Liverpool because I must be a Beatles fan, but nope. I probably only know two of their songs, and I even found out that John Lennon was part of the Beatles AFTER I arrived to England (shut up). Honestly I have no idea why I chose this location. I just had an urge to go to a foreign city I barely heard of, restrict myself from researching about this place, and experience the refreshing newness.
The moment I landed at John Lennon Airport, I was in love.
I loved that I didn't know what my next move was. I loved that I had to go to an information desk at the airport to ask what the main form of transportation was around there. I loved that no one gave a s**t about what I was doing or where I was going.
I had the best time in Liverpool, mostly things I would never want to share with any other soul for the purpose of keeping the memories all mine. And I think it was after this trip I finally found out what I'm truly happy doing: keeping my life a secret.
Growing up, I was the one with all the gossip, but weirdly it was all my own gossip. I would show text messages between me and boys to my girlfriends. I would share every single moment, happy or sad, to everyone. I would basically grab every thought in my head and speak all my thoughts before I could catch myself. I would share so much of my daily life with my friends until i realized my moments didn't become just mine anymore. It belonged to everyone. And the dangerous part of a memory becoming everyone's is that everyone gets to have a say in how I felt or must've felt about it. They get to add on to the memory until the truth becomes lies.
I believe the more valuable a memory is, the more you should protect it from spilling out of your mouth. Keep it yours and solely yours as long as you can. This is why journals were made so you don't forget the memories in the process of keeping them yours. Even if I learned this lesson later on, I've been truly happy with all the time I've spent alone and I'm proud of my journey.
Traveling by myself is my key to euphoria, what's yours?