Something I hear a lot when I say I’ve done a year abroad is ‘I wish I were that brave’. What they don’t realise, is I was not that brave!

I always thought it would be so cool to do, but maybe in another life (the real ‘maybe next time’). It felt like too big a lunge. I was resigned to being too anxious, not brave enough to do it. But I entertained the idea out of curiosity, that glimpse into another lifetime where a braver me could have done it.

So I went to the information meeting. Why not? Didn’t mean I had to go to the next meeting.

But I did. So? Didn’t mean I had to go get the visa and buy the ticket.

But… then I did.

Because hey, at least if I get the visa, I can say I went through the visa process. Each little step was an achievement: booking a visa appointment, printing off paperwork, going to London, finding the visa embassy, waiting my turn, speaking to the staff, showing them my paperwork. I took each step without the pressure of taking the next one, which, admittedly, made the next step even easier. 

And then I got the visa. My application was approved.

So why not go abroad? Worst comes to worst, I could always hide in my room and book a flight home. But I may as well walk down the street. May as well look around. May as well get a bus pass. May as well show up to my first class.

And as time went on—or rather, sped by—the year was gone. I had done a year abroad.

I had travelled places, spoken to people, visited things I thought I’d never see in this life. Which, to some, may sound dramatic—what do you mean you thought you’d never solo travel in your lifetime?

But if you also often overthink or feel stuck in life, you might understand my point. This me had done a year abroad. I didn’t have to wait for the next life. It was… just a series of steps, a continuous movement. And sometimes I cried; debated running back the way I came. But with each shakey touch of a toe to the ground ahead, I had taken a step forward.

Some days, weeks, I didn’t leave my room. Didn’t attend classes. People often hear this and paint this part of the experience as a failure. But I was still abroad. I didn’t move forward, but I didn’t give up either. I just stayed planted. And that’s still a success for me.

So, this is what I mean by taking life step by step. Even the days the steps went backwards, or my body was physically stagnant—my mind was doing too many backflips to be considered unmoving. And life itself is just a series of movements. Stagnation never truly exists in the internal world. If something in your mind is changing, if you’re having a new thought every day, you are still moving.

I know I was in a privileged position to go abroad—whilst financial funding exists, situations don’t always allow for people to disappear for a year. Some people must care for family, or are rooted to their location in other ways. But that doesn’t mean you aren’t moving, aren’t achieving. It works even in the smallest of things. Anxious about ordering food? First things first, head to the queue. Choose mentally what you want, then repeat it from your mind to them. If you stutter, just slow your speech and say it again. They won’t lean out and slap you for it. And if they do? Hey, what a story, right? You’re keeping it moving, even if it is just the tears down your face.