Manchester, England I

This blog is going to take a temporary detour. I will now be updating with my travels, so if you'd like to keep up, check in every now and then. I will try to do at the very least, one post per city.

Let's cut to the chase: I made it to Manchester on Saturday and subsequently and immediately decided not to attend the university.
I know that sounds absolutely crazy seeing as I have planned for this for quite some time, but really, it's not too far fetched.

I have always wanted to go abroad and travel for an extended period of time. I mean, that's the dream, right? Exploring as much as you can before you have a set career and a spouse and children and need to spend money on 'practical' things. Before you're locked down with so many responsibilities that you're lucky if you can even take a vacation for ten working days a year. What was ultimately holding me back (since I have none of the aforementioned commitments at the moment), was plain fear. Traveling alone as a women is an intimidating prospect. I figured the safest and most controlled way to go off to another country by myself would be to attend school. Of course that's not the only reason for my interest in the graduate program I was accepted in to. I am sincerely invested in, and concerned with women's and lgbti issues, but it's just that I don't necessarily believe that spending a large sum of money in order to sit through lectures to receive a degree that will most likely be of no advantage when seeking out a job unless I want to become a professor (which I don't), is the only way to be active and make a difference in the community. Why did I still come to Manchester believing all of this to be true? I just considered that the whole experience would be an investment in myself. Learning while having a year abroad would give me a life experience, and no matter what, that could never be a bad thing.Well, once I made it on that plane alone and crossed the Atlantic, something changed inside of me. The idea of venturing out on my own didn't seem so out of reach or scary any longer. I had already quit a job that evolved into something I disliked and I had more than enough money saved for school and I just thought "If not now, then when?".

On another note, I left Doug behind. After all that build up, and all those tears, and finding the strength to pull myself together and go (not without constant self-reminders that this was a promise I had made to myself before I found this love), I left. I've never been in a relationship this perfect or ever loved anyone this much. Doug is the other half of my world; my partner. I would never even try to convey all of the emotions that come along with leaving that behind. Sure, we could have had a long distance relationship, and I know we'd come through intact, but it just seems so glaringly counterintuitive to love someone that much and not be where he is and be able to see him every day. So being abroad for under three months instead of a year will allow me to give myself the gift of independence and exploration while not compromising a relationship that Doug and I have so happily built together.

I sincerely believe that I have made the correct choice and I have no regrets. I will still be learning about people and their cultures; just not in a formal setting. I will be exposed by being vulnerably immersed. I'll be jumping off the high dive instead of putting one foot in the shallow end. But most importantly, I will learn about the type of person that I am. I'll be forced to trust my own decisions, follow my gut, and rely on no one else but me. This means I'll actually have to unequivocally believe in myself, and If I can master that by the end of all this, then I know I'll have obtained the most invaluable education of all.