The first semester I studied abroad was full of lessons learned and many moments stumbling through a language I thought I had a grasp on. I was wide-eyed and clinging to my best friend as if she had the secret to navigating the other side of the world. 

Five months later, I boarded another plane with that same best friend, this time bound for a different country with a different language and culture, still unsure if I was chasing a sense of spontaneity or running from routine. I did not expect how different the two experiences would be, and how they would shape me.

My first semester abroad unraveled so much of what I thought I knew about myself. As someone who had never left the United States, everything felt astounding and overwhelming in the best way. But surprisingly, it was choosing to go abroad again with the knowledge of how challenging it can be that resulted in the development of a deeper sense of self than I had before.

I spent the fall semester of my junior year at SLU Madrid. It was the only program I had really heard of. A program where you have no doubts about credits or scholarships transferring, and you get a lot of support through the visa process. 

It made sense that I chose the most popular program offered in the study abroad office. There is comfort in the familiar, following a necessary logic to do what everyone else is doing. 

It felt like the right move and, in many ways, it was. Everyone knows someone who went there. Tapas, world-famous museums and weekend getaways, it checked every box.

I had some extremely meaningful experiences in Madrid. I lived with warm, welcoming host parents who greeted me with home-cooked, authentic meals and patient smiles as I staggered through our conversations in Spanish. My two roommates, who quickly felt like siblings, filled the apartment with laughter, late-night conversations and a much-needed sense of belonging. I learned how to be okay with getting lost, overcome culture shock and budget with no income in a major European city. 

Something was enlightening about it, but in all honesty, Madrid never quite felt like mine. As much as I wanted to, I struggled to feel settled or at home the whole semester. Looking back, I realize how hard it was to admit that I was not having the time of my life in a place where I thought I should.

I wrestled with a lot of dissonance that semester, falling into a place of comparisons of other people’s experiences, while simultaneously feeling ungrateful and guilty about not thriving in a beautiful place. The contrast became a constant undertone of that semester. 

I was homesick in a way that is hard to articulate. Not for a place in particular, but for a feeling of attachment I did not have access to in Spain. There was an unspoken set of expectations about how I was supposed to feel, and I could not live up to them.

I knew I still wanted to complete an entire year abroad, so I decided to stay in Europe. The second semester abroad, I chose Webster University in Athens, Greece: a program that was not talked about as much. It was small, with only 10 students in the entire program, all from different schools. Only one of them wasn’t a stranger to me on the first day. 

That ended up being the best thing about it. There were no expectations of who I had to be. I learned how to lean on strangers, a process that gave me social courage I did not know I needed. Our program director was heavily involved, like a second mom to us. She took us to new cities all over Greece: weekend trips to Olympia, Nafplio, Delphi and more. 

Day hikes through mountains and ruins, beach towns I could not pronounce but now dream of constantly. It was less of a checklist and more of a lived-in and personal adventure.

Outside the group excursions, my newfound friends and I took independent trips on a whim, €15 flights across the continent, and €10 ferries to the Greek islands. Forming friendships with locals, learning phrases from servers and bartenders, and wandering through neighborhoods with no plans. 

I lived in a city-center apartment minutes from campus, on the historic streets where democracy was born. I felt rooted in a way I had not before. 

I stopped caring about what I was “supposed” to see or do and asked myself what I wanted to experience. I became comfortable in stillness, savoring the smallest moments, and I started to see discomfort as a sign of growth rather than failure.

Studying abroad in the second semester helped me rebuild with intention and clarity. I needed Madrid. I needed the bright city lights and the comfort of the popular path. Being there that first semester pushed me past the barrier where the unfamiliar felt unbearable and going home felt like the only option, and gave me the stability to spend another five months out of my comfort zone.

I needed Athens in other ways that will stick with me for the rest of my life. I learned to build memories that were not refined or packaged, but personal. It was a program where I stopped performing and started being. It helped me understand that meaningful growth does not come from the pre-written experience, but rather the experience that you make entirely yours.

If you are contemplating separate programs, I know how tempting the popular one can be. The one that looks polished and convenient. But if you get a flicker of curiosity about the other program, the smaller one, chase it. You will find something there that no photo can explain, and live in stories only you can tell.