Culture shock is real- I’ve experienced it firsthand. Stepping into the Boston Logan airport, I hear everyone speaking from what I was used to, an American accent. I feel like I can talk freely and be understood without clarification. At the baggage claim, I strike up a conversation with an individual and they understand every word I say. I can also understand the words of everyone around me. Definitely an experience I had not been used to in multiple months.
Adjusting back to life in America hasn’t been so easy. When my friend walked to the left of the car to drive, I subconsciously follow, because the left side was where the passenger sat. The right side was where the driving wheel was. I still find myself saying, what’s the “postcode”, instead of zip code, and “is there a que?”, or “we need to que up?”
I miss London and the experiences I had. I miss going out with on my own and with friends on adventures in the city. The nature of the language and culture is proper and classy, which I have adapted for my own self-advancement. I have grown so much from this experience. I look back on the memories now that I am home, and I smile. I smile because I am thankful for the risk I took to go to London alone and the strength I had to take chances. I learned that I am responsible for my own happiness, and if that means exploring and being happy on my own, I am more than thankful to receive that gift.
My last night in London I spent ice skating at the Swarovski ice rink at the Natural History Museum. I enjoyed lovely mulled wine and winter views. It felt like home. Afterwards, I packed and headed to the Maddox club to enjoy house music on my last night out.