Alone vs. Al[l]one

Leah Blankespoor
Oct 4, 2016
4 min read

In second grade I was homeschooled, and from that point on I became a home body who rarely liked leaving my comfortable nest. When the time came to go to normal school the next year I had formed an attachment to the comforts of home and my sister and mom. Ever since, adjusting to new living situations has always caused me anxiety.

My biggest fear in life is being alone. No, not alone as in being single. But being completely alone, all by myself. I have found that this feeling of alienation happens even in a crowded room with people I know, and it is the worst gut wrenching feeling.

Because of this, I knew studying abroad would be a challenge for me. Away from home and the ones I love. A new living environment almost every week. Having to make all new friends and connections. Yet somehow I was alone and not al[l]one (all alone). I work hard to find daily things that make me happy and make my spirit smile. Yes I miss my family back home so much that I ache, but I know deep down even though sometimes I am alone I am never fully al[l]one.

Daily interactions like meeting a 22 year old postgrad student who encouraged me that getting married in his early 20s was one of the best decisions he's ever made and that I will be so incredibly happy that I made that decision too. Face timing my mom, fiancée and dog, making plans with my best friend back home, finding a church that feels like home. Apples with gingerbread cookie butter with peppermint tea after a long day. Meeting up with my future father-in-law for a three course meal along the Thames River with a lit up skyline next to the London Bridge and getting a personal London tour with every sight lit up against the night sky. These are what keep me grounded when my environment is shifting.

I even made a huge leap and made my first solo trip all by myself to London. This was a big deal for me and the most ludacris thing I believe I have ever done. I learned the tube system, found my hostel, was a complete tourist, and even attended a musical on my excursion. And here's the kicker: I made it. Yes I was a crying deer in headlights upon arrival at the London Victoria Station. And I walked 12 miles daily aimlessly walking the streets trying to find my way without wifi or data. But I know that I can be okay.

Home is where my pack is. I could care less about my earthly things like clothes, food, blankets. I have learned that those are all irreplaceable. When I am homesick and despairing for an anchor to tie me down it is always for those closest to me.

Upon my departure I was asked questions like "Are you still going even though you are engaged?" and "If you know you'll get homesick why are you going?" Here is my answer: even though it is the most daring and scariest thing I have ever done to choose to do long distance with the love of my life, and going into a situation where I know I will be hurting, I knew I needed it. Being in college and hovering in between a student and an independent adult, I needed a learning opportunity where I was forced to adapt and grow. I needed to be put outside of my comfort zone.

Homesickness is inevitable and it comes in waves for many people. Acknowledging it and not bottling it up is very important. You are not less of a person for longing for the comforts of home even when you are doing amazing things. Probably one of the hardest things for me is wanting to share and experience these opportunities with my friends and family. I am learning so much, and changing and growing, and I want them to revel in it too so that we can share it. Climbing a mountain for sunset one night and a sunrise two days later, jumping into the Mediterranean ocean off of a ship, finally mastering the Metro and Tube, walking across the Tower Bridge completely lit up at night. I want to bottle these experiences up and give them away because I feel selfish for keeping them to myself.

Words rang in my head as I ascended King Arthur's point at sunset and then sunrise. I was afraid of falling, afraid of slipping, afraid of looking down. I was exhausted. Yet I kept my eyes up to the summit. These words are such a comfort to me, a globe trotter suffering from blistered feet, 48 hours straight of sleeplessness, and a frightening experience in the city that shook me to the core.

I lift up my eyes to the mountains—

where does my help come from?

My help comes from the Lord,

the Maker of heaven and earth.

He will not let your foot slip—

he who watches over you will not slumber;

indeed, he who watches over Israel

will neither slumber nor sleep.

The Lord watches over you—

the Lord is your shade at your right hand;

the sun will not harm you by day,

nor the moon by night.