As you read this, I am sitting on a plane taxiing across the runway in Dublin Airport, headed to Cardiff to start my masters course.
A year ago, I never thought I would be here. I had never planned to do any sort of postgraduate study, least of all one that would take me to another country. But there was something about this one that I knew if I didn’t even just go for it, I’d never forgive myself.
Once I had my mind made up, I was going- being the stubborn little madam that I am- and I count myself incredibly lucky to have had two insanely supportive parents who never once stopped me. I wouldn’t have been at all able to go, either emotionally or financially, without their backing.
Not only that, my friends have been the best throughout. They say the decision to move abroad is a selfish one, and I can’t argue that. Not once while filing my application to study did I think of anyone but myself. But every single one of my friends was more supportive than I could ever have imagined. They listened when I banged on and on about my upcoming move, asked questions about it constantly, and above all, made me feel at ease before the biggest life change I would ever make. None of them ever told me I was talking about it too much, they just sat back and watched the excitement unfold.
(Ok, almost none of them.)
Yes, I admit, moving away from my whole life is probably the most selfish thing I will ever do. But I have a feeling it’s going to be the most rewarding, too.
It’s time for a change. Time for a new beginning. And there will always be a bed at home.
For now, Cardiff awaits me. I should probably turn the phone off so they can start the plane.