This is not a post about living the dream or about roses and rainbows in a marvelous city ...
First I was ecstatic about the whole thing, then I wasn't, then I was again and then I wasn't...
And that feeling lasted for a very long time.
I always wished I could see other countries before 30 but I never imagined it would come quicker so when I found myself out of the country for the first time last year, I was giddy about starting a new chapter of my life in 2020.
It felt surreal, even my family couldn't believe that it was possible, that the world of academia opens doors and this time, it opened one in our home.
So January, 14 2020 the journey began, one that would shape my experience and make me look good on paper.
But it started off really bad, for my mental health.
I felt myself shattering and I couldn't pick up the pieces.
I mean, how would I tell my family, my friends, the people that made it possible for me to be there that I just wanted to get on a plane and head back home?
How do I tell them I was done with the place before I even began?
Everything felt really off honestly, I couldn't fit in, I wanted to, I tried to but the unfamiliar faces looked back with gloom and despair (at least that's what I thought).
Some were nice, some tried to fake a smile, some faces screamed at you that you didn't belong there.
(or maybe is just my insecurities imagining things)
So I started bothering myself on what I should do...
Do I need to start up conversations?
Should I comment on the weather when its sunny?
Should I say something smug about Nigeria so that they can feel sorry for me?
Should I? Do I? Can I? Must I?
All these words clanging like pots and pans in my head, but my body, my soul, my mind … Just wanted to live and breathe!
So it started rioting with my sub conscious that craved attention, it decided to deprive it of that and mess up my confidence. It decided to unpack all my crappy feelings on my face in the form of acne.
They were like soldiers, red and ready for war, my face itched, my face disgusted me to the point that I couldn't stand a conversation because I felt the focus was on my face.
I was in despair, I wished I could yank off my whole body and throw it away.
And then it hit me, I shouldn't be hard on myself, everything I felt was valid.
I mean I moved miles away from my friends, my family, away from my usual status quo to a place with an entirely different culture, language, food, weather, temperature, what did I think it was going to be?
Yes I thought I would probably bloom, flourish, spread my wings, but I withered, shrunk, became dust... and that is totally okay.
Because that way, I can plant myself, water myself and grow,
and all these things takes time.
So I decided to cherish my environment, and everything around me and watch myself grow.
I mean even as I write this, I am not there yet, but my body has started bouncing (acne 80% gone), I have decided not to be hard on myself and allow myself to adapt no matter how long it takes. Allow myself to just be me.
So here I am, in Gothenburg, taking it one step at a time, I take a look around to savor the scenery and for the first time, the city says Välkommen and I say Hej.
Ongodi.
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