Back in America... A Year Later

I sat down to write a “Back in America” post more times than I can remember. And here I am, an entire year (to the day) since I returned from my European summer and it feels like the time might finally be right. And if it’s not, I’m forcing it to be.

I found myself unable to write another blog entry time and time again because the words wouldn’t come. The words wouldn’t come because I had no clue what I was feeling. I had no clue what I was feeling because I felt everything; pride for what I’d accomplished, annoyance at being back in classrooms in Indiana for another year, excitement at seeing my friends and family, longing for more adventure and fear that I had set myself out from the crowd but wouldn’t be able to live up to it. And that, my friends, is just the tip of the iceberg of the roller coaster that is reverse culture shock.

What is reverse culture shock, you ask? Well I’m sure you’ve all heard of culture shock – arriving in a new place or environment that is different from your own and experiencing difficulties coping. Reverse culture shock are those feelings of unrest and discomfort, only when you arrive home from whatever new land you found yourself in. I spent the summer exploring ten unique cities in four beautiful countries, living out of a backpack, working with people that made me feel at home and interacting with no one that I knew besides my brother. Then suddenly I was back in the states, forced to re-adapt to painfully normal life.

Things were the same, but things were undeniably different. I would cry for no reason, I wanted to lay in bed and my school load felt like it was consuming me despite only be in twelve credit hours. I was angry and felt shut off. Sure, this sounds like that of someone having a depression-induced crisis! But in reality, I was confused and frustrated and didn’t know how to articulate the things I felt.

Now we add in interaction with other humans. Humans that followed my journey via blog and social media, with nothing but kind words of encouragement and support for which I am eternally grateful.

Disclaimer: this is a generalization of my encounters with people, not an every time occurrence. Keep in mind the internal struggles I just covered when you read my thoughts on interacting with others. Regardless of how a conversation went with someone, I am still so happy people were kind enough to ask and it’s overwhelming to think back on the support.

I would see people and they’d ask “how was your trip?”, I respond with “it was great!” and then they give me that “seriously... that’s it?” look. But going any more in depth would feel like I was dropped into an endless ocean of my own stories that I had yet to even reflect on. I experienced something new every single day for three months – it’s hard to sum up in a fleeting conversation.

Or perhaps, I would dive into further detail, but here’s the kicker: they don’t care. Which is completely fine, and not surprising. From what I’ve found, if someone hasn’t been out of the country or doesn’t have the overwhelming desire to do something similar, then they have nothing to relate it to and your stories will go in one ear and out the other. Again, a very understandable response to me babbling on about a Renaissance mime-actor with black makeup all over his body, approaching Quinton and I as we ate sushi on the edge of the Seine. I’d change the subject on me too.

Somewhere, there’s a middle ground of telling someone more than “it was really dope” but still not dragging them into a play-by-play accompanied by an iPhone slideshow, complete with upbeat, inspirational background music. I never found that middle ground.

Although I understand people’s inability to communicate with me about my trip, (and in retrospect, my issues were making it harder than it needed to be) it made the reverse culture shock all the more difficult. I felt trapped with all my experiences with no way to express them. Luckily, Quinton and I have a knack for taking ugly pictures (ok, I just make really ugly faces in pictures... sorry, Mom) and family and friends get a kick out of looking at those. Humor makes it all better.

*If you’re traveling abroad, I suggest taking strange, somewhat tragic photos of yourself because it’s a good segue into a story! Jealousy will run rampant when you’re at a world renowned destination AND you look fierce.

I can’t say how I finally coped with the reverse culture shock because it still has a hand in my life, although it’s far less severe. That summer changed me, as it would change anyone who traveled alone for six weeks then spent another five attached to the hip of their big brother. People are enthusiastically impressed when they learn I spent a summer abroad, working and traveling. And still others toss a stinky face my way when I relate a situation to a story from Europe. You can’t please everyone, but I do hope that in some way, the summer I had might light a fire under someone else’s butt and they’ll think “I can do that”. ****if you’re thinking this right now then HELL YES YOU CAN.

So without trudging through the entirety of the 2014-2015 school year, we’ll skip ahead.

I graduated from the University of Southern Indiana in May with a degree in Public Relations and Advertising and I have no hesitation in saying that the program that led me to the internship in New Lanark, Scotland was the greatest decision I’ve ever made. Although this summer was not spent Anthony Bourdain-ing around foreign countries, I did manage to land another internship (because who wants to fully join the real world, am I right?), working full time in the Communications Department at SABIC Innovative Plastics in Southern Indiana.

No, I can’t tell you what’s next, so don’t ask me. (Yes, I’m still in the post-grad attitude.)

But I would like to close with, despite the frustrations I felt when talking to others about the trip or the battles I felt with re-adjusting to real life, I am beyond grateful for every person who supported me before, during and after this trip. It’s intimidating to consider the possibilities and places that I’ve yet to come upon, but I’m grounded and less fearful knowing that I have an incredible foundation of support from people in southern Illinois, Indiana and wherever in the world all my travel buddies may be today.

Here's to the next adventure.

Cheers,
TGT