Stuck Between a Rock, a Hard Place, and Rome

For as long as I could remember planning to go to college, I planned to study abroad. I would even go as far as to say these two experiences were synonymous in my mind, with studying abroad almost being built into my idea of my college experience. 

This past Friday, I officially made the decision not to go abroad. Many people in my life, myself included, were shocked by this seemingly sudden decision when living in Italy had been a dream of mine for so long. Yet, as I sent the email, I realized that my mind had been made up for much longer than I realized. Isn’t that so odd? We think we have so much control over our minds, so much agency in our own lives, but it’s almost as though my decision had been predisposed for me and I simply uncovered it. 

Sitting back in my chair, I tried to think back to a moment when I first felt as though I had made this decision. Was it when I frantically threw myself into searching for other options in Italy independent from my school’s location there? Or maybe when I noticed my reluctance in resorting to that location due to convenience? It could have been the pit in my stomach that would announce its presence every time someone would mention my upcoming adventure. Yet through all of this, I was disturbed by the fact that I harbored even the slightest discontent with living in Italy for 5 months. I mean with all of my dad’s side being from Italy, I’ve always planned on living there eventually. What was wrong with me? Here I was with this amazing opportunity on the horizon, the possibility of exploring another sector of the world with my best friend, and I didn’t want to go. 

Why? 

The answer to this question almost stuns me with its clarity, riding the line between undermining its validity through its simplicity and arising as too straightforward an answer to have any rival- I just knew it was wrong. There were reasons I could list out and give rhetorical shape to, obviously, but at the end of the day, my decision was made by the persistent gut feeling telling me not to go. The reason I had wrestled with admitting this choice to myself for so long was because I was being forced to choose between two good things. I feel as though this situation is especially difficult because of the fact that having two equally wonderful options is far more rare in decision making than we realize; often, there is one choice that stands out as objectively better than the other. In my situation though, I had two phenomenal options: experience a different part of the world for the better part of 5 months, or continue cultivating the home I had created for myself on campus. 

Through it all though, regardless of the splendor of the promise that studying abroad gave to me, that gut feeling just would not leave me alone. For much of my life, I disregarded that “feeling” for the sake of the reactions of others or different rationalizations I tried to contend with. I used to feel foolish defending a decision of mine with the argument that “I just don’t feel like its right.” Since when was our own intuition not justification enough to make a decision, as who knows ourselves better than us? So, while I can confidently say that I would have had an incredible experience going abroad, the peace I found in pressing “Send” on my rejection email was like none I had experienced before. Now, whether that peace came from the actual decision itself, or from the fact that for the first time in my life, I was finally looking towards my own intuition for the answer rather than the validation of external sources is a different question- one I cannot wait to continue exploring.