When I first left for Europe, I braced myself for culture shock. Different languages, customs, and lifestyles—I expected to feel out of place. What I didn’t expect was how out of place I would feel coming back home to Illinois.
Strangely, the weather was the same. The skies were gray, the wind was sharp, and the air felt familiar. But everything else felt… off. While abroad, I had settled into a lifestyle that now felt like second nature—daily walks through cobbled streets, fresh and wholesome meals, and casual kindness from strangers. Coming back, I felt the absence of those small but meaningful parts of life more deeply than I ever imagined.
There were no cappuccinos gently served with a smile at a street café, no doners wrapped in warm bread, no soft pretzels from a corner vendor, no comforting bowls of beef goulash. The food here felt heavier, less healthy, and more processed. I missed the rhythm of walking everywhere, of moving my body without thinking twice about it. In Illinois, cars rule the streets and sidewalks are empty.
But the hardest part? The people. While we’re polite here, something felt missing—the warmth. In Europe, people smiled at me on the street, took time to chat, and shared a sense of presence. It’s hard to explain, but there was a lightness in day-to-day interactions that I now find myself craving.
I thought the hardest part would be adjusting to life in Europe. Instead, it’s adjusting to life without Europe. I’m home, but something in me changed—and now I have to learn how to carry those parts of Europe with me, even here in Illinois.
