The past week has been a complete whirlwind. As the countdown to my one-way flight to Europe hit single digits, reality started sinking in-and with it came all the feelings I knew I wasn’t prepared for.

My best friend, Olivia, threw me a “bonvoyage” going away party with my closest friends and we had a blast. The next day, my mom and I took a trip down to Iowa so I could spend some extra time with my sister, nephews, and Iowa family. Hugging goodbye to my nephews and sister shattered my heart into a million tiny pieces. What if my nephews don’t remember me by the time I come home? We then drove to Chicago to spend the weekend with my brother. Saying goodbye to my mom at the airport was the toughest. That woman supports all of my wildest dreams through and through-even at the risk of her own sanity at happiness. Who wants their daughter solo traveling around Europe for multiple months anyways? There’s just something so different about the time you’re spending with someone when you know you won’t see them again for a while. I felt more present, more thankful, like I was soaking in each moment with each person so that I won’t ever forget it.

Saying goodbye to my friends and family was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. Each hug, each tearful smile, each “I’m so proud of you” felt like a tiny knot tightening in my chest.

The airport was a mess of emotions. I felt like two versions of myself were battling it out inside me: one clinging to comfort, the other reaching toward the adventure I’ve dreamed about for over a decade. I cried, I smiled, I questioned everything, and then I boarded the plane.

And now… I’m here. London. Day One. Jet-lagged, a little dazed, but deeply present.

So far, so good. I checked into my hostel after somehow finding my way around the Tube (local train station) and not ending up in Scotland. I had a heck of a time figuring out the train system and finding an Oyster card at the airport. Oyster cards are used in London and are prepaid cards that allow you to instantly tap to pay for each train. This city feels alive in a way that’s already tugging at the part of me that craves newness.

I don’t know what the next few months will hold. But I do know this: every hard goodbye led me here. And I’m holding space for both the grief and the gratitude that comes with chasing something bigger than fear.

Here’s to the start of something wild.

xo,
Kals