17.12.24
Moving to a new country for a master's in something I've never formally studied has been both the best decision of my life and a kick to my butt. Homesickness hit me first - I miss my parents, my dog, my friends, and the love of my life butter chicken which isn't available here. Just when I thought I'd figured out how to manage it, I was hit with bigger problems. The constant questioning, the realisation that I'm so far behind and how incredible everyone around me was. I was feeling completely out of my depth. This semester blindsided me more than I want to admit. It's been a whirlwind of existential crisis, fuelled with questions about my identity, my relationships, my character, my ability to function as a human being who occasionally remembers to eat vegetables. The questions pile up: Am I enough? Which direction do I focus my energy on? Is this necessary? Half the time, I'm too tired to even acknowledge the questions, let alone answer them.
It's strange how you can be so passionate about something, pour your entire self into it, and still end up questioning if you ever really understood it at all. Most of the time, I don't even realise how deeply this part of my identity is intertwined with who I am. Sometimes I look at my work and don't recognise it as mine. Other times, I recognise it too much - I can spot every limitation, details which could easily be made better, and my fears laid bare on the art board.
Not gonna lie, it's been tough. Caring deeply about something is always a gamble, and I lost at it this time. Opening myself up to people and what they think about me felt like I was in high school again - hungry for validation and approval for no reason. The worst part is how this experience has made me question everything about myself. Not just work – though that's a deep setback of its own – but my ability to judge situations and to trust my instincts.
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I'm trying my best. Really trying. The funny thing about trying your best is that it doesn't come with a receipt. There's no returns counter where I can exchange my failed attempts for a refund of my confidence.
For now, I go back home. Hug my mom. Force my dog to cuddle with me. See my friends. And take a step back. All I've learned is that there's no safe way to create, no safe way to love. You either pour yourself into it completely or you hold back and regret it later. I hope I get more comfortable with this reality in the coming semester. But for now, I rest.
