Studying abroad: The one-way ticket

No one is ever truly ready to study abroad; you just have to be brave enough to try. The night before I moved 3,436 kilometres away from home, I sat on my bedroom floor surrounded by four packed bags that somehow carried eighteen years of my life. My mind was loud with questions: Will I make friends? Will I manage my studies? Will I get along with my flatmates? Am I really brave enough to do this?

On my first day in the UK, I was overflowing with curiosity, eager to see squirrels running through parks, to watch fire-coloured leaves swirl in the cold autumn breeze, to finally experience everything I had imagined. I picked up my keys and met my flatmates soon after. The question “Will I get along with them?” replayed in my mind. Looking back, I did – but not in the way I imagined. We shared spaces peacefully, but never became close friends, and that was the first crack in my picture-perfect image of university life.

You’re stepping into a new world, and it will take time to adapt, and that’s okay

I think everyone who studies abroad has that moment, the first setback that humbles you, because unfortunately, this isn’t “My Oxford Year”, so no instant friendships or slow-motion meet-cutes in sight. Therefore, my advice is simple: expect it. Expect confusion. Expect disappointment. Expect things to feel unfamiliar. You’re stepping into a new world, and it will take time to adapt, and that’s okay. Give yourself time to learn how to live again, in a new place, in a new way.

Before my parents left, I remember sitting with my dad, complaining about the weight of all the new responsibilities. He looked at me and said, “Do you know how many people wish they had this chance – to study somewhere outside their home, to start afresh?” That line stuck with me. It changed my perspective, as what felt overwhelming was really an opportunity, a privilege I owed myself to grow through.

Coming from a small island, I had to confront the biases and assumptions that life in a close-knit community subtly teaches you. Seeing faces from every corner of the world felt surreal. Interacting with people who spoke differently, thought differently, and dressed differently was eye-opening and at times, intimidating. I went from being known to being just another face in the crowd. Yet with that anonymity came an unexpected sense of freedom: freedom to become, and to simply be. I was given the chance to define myself without the weight of familiarity, and by my second year, those once-foreign faces had become my everyday people.

Had I given in to the feeling that I wasn’t brave enough to do this, I would have never met these people who made me feel so special

Then there was the weather. Along with habits I had to unlearn, I also had to let go of the sun. From 30°C afternoons to grey, cloudy skies; if you come from a warm place like me, prepare yourself, the cold here is almost as snappish as British small talk (just kidding!). Still, there’s comfort in adapting: even if this is simply layering clothes, laughing at how quickly “12 degrees and cloudy” starts to sound like a good day, or how hearing a stranger call you “darling” in that classic British tone feels confusing at first but oddly sweet after.

The hardest question, “Will I make friends?” took a bit longer to answer. The first few weeks were the loneliest. I felt overwhelmed by distance, lectures, and the sudden silence that followed my parents’ goodbye. I was too drained to even call my family or friends; it’s easy to fall into this loop. Then came my birthday. A bittersweet day where I was far from home, surrounded by people who had only known me for a few weeks, yet made me feel like I had never left home. These moments make the leap worthy. Had I given in to the feeling that I wasn’t brave enough to do this, I would have never met these people who made me feel so special on my special day.

Still, loneliness has its way of returning, and when it does, my advice is to balance the worlds you carry within you. Keep things that remind you of home, such as pictures, songs, or a hoodie that still smells like comfort, but also open yourself to new experiences. Say yes to going out, join societies and walk those ten minutes to a friend’s flat to cook together. Step out of your comfort zone; that is how you grow!

I wasn’t just surviving abroad but living, incrementally becoming a more independent version of myself

And amidst everything, make time for yourself. Find a balance between your studies and your well-being. For me, that meant dedicating Sundays as my reset days. I’d study in the morning, then do my laundry, clean my room, make tea, and go to bed early. This was my weekly reminder that I wasn’t just surviving abroad but living, incrementally becoming a more independent version of myself.

Overall, if you’d ask me to count, I could list nine cons of moving abroad: homesickness, the distance, and the unmet expectations. But I would also find ten pros: freedom, resilience, self-discovery, and moments like my birthday, small reminders that even far from home, you can still belong. That one difference, that one extra reason, is enough to make the risk worth taking.