Why everyone should move (if they're able)

There are a lot of things I can't say I know for certain. I'm unsure of a lot of things. I'm unsure of how to successfully land a summer internship. I don't know how to paint my nails without getting it everywhere. I still struggle to understand the difference between a Scottish and Irish accent. Math is a foreign concept. I don't understand why everything is so expensive in the UK, and I definitely don't know how to fall asleep without background noise. Most of my life (and I'd assume yours too) has been spent trying to figure things out. A series of trials and errors that hopefully lead to you understanding yourself and coming a little bit closer to creating a fulfilling life. I'm unsure of a lot of things, but the one thing I know I did right was moving.

If I were to tell my middle school self that I've been traveling the world alone for the past four months, she would've probably had a panic attack. I was a really weird kid. I paced back and forth in the halls of my school around eight times and then cried hysterically in the bathroom at the thought of being late for class and having to walk in front of a whopping 20 kids to get to my seat. I blushed if anyone talked to me. I gave oral presentations in class, and my hands would tremble with fear as they held a piece of paper that had my script on it. 12-year-old me was scared of everything. She was scared of becoming a teenager. She was scared of peer pressure and smoking weed. She was scared of getting kidnapped. She was scared of swimming competitions, crop tops, family gatherings, and the concept of death. But more than anything, she was scared of university. And she was scared of moving away. Looking back, I definitely had some issues that should've been addressed or something, but anyways.  My mom hasn't always been right about everything, but she was right about one thing for sure. She always told me, "Do one thing a day that scares you." I didn't really understand it at the time, but the older I get, the more I carry that quote with me. Literally. I wrote it down on a piece of paper and bring it with me in my backpack whenever I go traveling. It kind of goes hand in hand with "When it feels scary to jump, that's exactly when you jump." And granted, she took it a little far. This manifested into her signing me up for poetry competitions once a year, in front of hundreds of people, in the hopes that it would make me stand a little bit taller and feel a little bit stronger. It didn't really work, but the thought was there, I guess.

That quote has carried me through my life, and it carried me when I moved to Vancouver barely knowing anyone. Admittedly, I was pretty close to choosing to stay in Ontario. I remember being accepted into UBC and, for a fleeting moment, thinking maybe staying closer to home would be the better option, in case all hell broke loose. I have a vivid memory of talking to Chloe about this topic, and I can still visualize her texts, where she told me I knew deep down I wanted to move to BC and I would regret it if I didn't. And she was right. I had this gut feeling like I knew the choice I wanted to make, even if it was maybe the one that was a little more uncomfortable. And boy, was it uncomfortable. But it was the best choice I've ever made. Moving across the country has allowed me to meet some of the most important people in my life from all around the world that I would've never met and career paths that I would've never been inspired to pursue had I stayed in my comfort zone. It's taught me about relationships, hikes, and how terrible the housing crisis is in Vancouver. But I think more than anything, it's taught me that I love to travel, and I love being uncomfortable. Some people spend their whole lives in their comfort zones, immobilized by their own limiting beliefs about themselves, and I always wished that I would never be one of those people.

One of the most inspirational people that I met in Vancouver was Lea, and I have to give her credit for being part of the reason that I am who I am today. I met her at some Kappa Sigma frat, and looking back, I could've never predicted the type of impact she would possibly have on my life. She's taught me a lot, but one of the main takeaways is that she taught me that I am capable of everything, and she believed she was capable of everything too. She was the first person I had ever met that didn't worry too much about logistics as long as she had an end goal in mind. So when she proposed working across the world for a summer after my first year in university, I was shocked. But I was also incredibly up for it. And now when I'm at a pub in Scotland talking to a stranger, I can mention the time I was an Aupair for a French family in Geneva for a summer in 2023 and how we crashed their car. It's a great conversation starter. That experience in itself was out of my comfort zone and required an incredible amount of planning but was also one of the best and coolest choices I've made (it's also great to mention in interviews). I have a vivid memory of joining a meeting online for a club I was in; I think it was the Women's Network. In this meeting, the host asked all of us to type in the chat one of our lifelong goals. I was on campus in a library, and Lea was beside me. I thought about writing "Go to law school," but hesitated to type it. I had mentioned this goal of mine to a few people in my life, and most of them said something along the lines of "You know that's, like, a lot of work, right?" or "Are you sure? I hear it's a pretty depressing job...". And so I sat there, hesitating. Without even asking and as if reading my mind, she leaned over my computer and typed it for me, then proceeded to send it in the chat. That small gesture probably meant more than she realized at the time—it shifted how I saw myself and pushed me to actually put in the effort to pursue something I once thought was too difficult. And none of that would've happened if I didn't move to Vancouver. 

Once I got a taste of independence after moving across the country, I felt like I could do anything. And this made me want to take it a step further and move across the world, even if it was for a short while. This motivated me to apply to go on exchange. I didn't get accepted to my first choice (I actually got my third), but I couldn't be more grateful for where I ended up. In January, there I was again in a foreign environment, not knowing anyone. I hauled ass in the tube in London with two suitcases and a backpack that was twice my size and took a train all the way to a wee town in Scotland. It wasn't perfect. I was jet-lagged, freezing, and confused about how every single building looked like a castle but somehow still had terrible insulation. My first week there was a storm, and the whole town was basically on lockdown. It was lonely at first, and the 30-minute walk to class, combined with having three male flatmates, definitely didn’t make things any easier. And yet, even in that first week, I tried to be thankful to find myself sitting in this discomfort. Every solo walk through a cobblestone alley, every awkward first conversation in a tutorial, every little moment where I felt unsure but kept going anyway—it all added up. I'm not here to say I've completely changed overnight or anything dramatic like that. But I’ve started to notice a difference. I find myself saying yes to things more easily. I trust myself more; there's something incredibly empowering about being able to get around on your own.  And most importantly, I’ve learned that discomfort isn’t a warning sign or something to be afraid of, but usually an indicator that you're doing something right. 

From the countless nights I spent sleeping on the floor in airports in an effort to save money to the many tears I shed because of Ryanair, it's all been worth it. And with that, I will leave you with one of my favourite quotes from Anthony Bourdain, who's been one of the great inspirations behind all of this.  

“If I'm an advocate for anything, it's to move. As far as you can, as much as you can. Across the ocean, or simply across the river. The extent to which you can walk in someone else's shoes or at least eat their food, it's a plus for everybody.

I still don’t know how to land the perfect internship. I still don’t know if I’m pronouncing “loch” correctly. But I do know this: Middle school me wouldn’t believe any of this. But I think she’d be pretty proud, and I urge you to be proud of yourself too.