Okay, so I know this isn’t the greatest selfie. Number one, I was about to board a 9-hour plane flight, while flying coach for the first time. Number two, I was crying. I cry in public and don’t really care that other people are staring. Sometimes, I just can’t help it.
Thanks to my parents, traveling is something that is basically in my blood. I was on my first plane at about 5 months old. All through middle and high school I was on a plane at least once a month during the school year, and in the summer, well let’s just say 12 planes in 8 weeks is really something else for a 15-year-old. But because of all of this, I am a very well equipped traveler. But, for some reason, this travel day was completely overwhelming.
When I get anxious, I cry. I can’t help it. That lump is stuck in my throat and if I even try to open my mouth and speak, the tears just fall out. This isn’t the first time it has happened. It’s been occurring for as long as I can remember.
In kindergarten, I cried every day. I said it was because I missed my brother and sister, so I carried around a little wallet with pictures of them and my parents. I also had a little teal blanket that I brought to school too. These things helped to sooth me and make me stop crying. I don’t remember why they helped, but I know they did.
This happened again when I changed classes in middle school. It happened again when my mom left me at a summer program at Yale. It happened again my first night at Pitt. And it happened again on the first day of my internship at Anna Sui this past summer. It seems like there might be a pattern, but there really isn’t. Why didn’t I cry when I started high school or when my mom dropped me off at my first summer away from home in New York? For some reason, some things just trigger the tears. And no matter how many times I travelled, I think I would have cried my way through the airport and the flight.
It is now 7:30pm here in Buenos Aires and my crying has finally stopped. I don’t feel like I am just going to explode anymore. I am starting to find some comfort. I unpacked, took a walk, found my school, and found a gym. I am getting to know my host mother, who is so incredibly nice and accommodating to all of my weird needs (we can get into that in another post #beingevonnawhileabroad). But best of all, I have my little piece of home. What would I ever do without my baby blanket. What was once a beautiful white knitted blanket, is now some shade of off white and has holes big enough for my head. But, has been mine forever and I love it.
As I prepare for orientation tomorrow, hopefully my crying doesn’t come back. Being the planner that I am, I find security in figuring out what my daily routine is going to be during these next four months. I get way more comfort than the average person 🙂 It also doesn’t hurt to have my blanket by my side.
I don’t know why sometimes my anxiety make me cry, while other times it doesn’t. But it is what it is. Regardless, I am here, in Buenos Aires. The journey is just beginning. Some tears along the way won’t hurt, now that my pretty smile is coming back to my face!