A Journey of Two Worlds: London and the Life I Left Behind

The bus to Ezeiza, Buenos Aires airport, left at 1:15 a.m. My brother drove me to the bus terminal, and there, to my surprise, my friend Mirta was waiting for me with a smile and open arms.

Her warmth and the last laughs we shared before my departure tempered the excitement of my departure. She shouted to the other passengers, "This is my friend Florencia, and she's going to live in England!" as she took one last souvenir photo.

I had four hours of travel to reflect on whether I was making the right decision. Despite having the heater on, the cold lingered. It wasn't exactly a chill from the weather, but more like a fear of the unknown.

I felt something strange in my stomach, and this time it wasn't butterflies! It was the emptiness I felt inside. Guilt, perhaps? For leaving my house, where I had lived for the past eleven years and, possibly, where I felt most settled and could call "home."

Of leaving my eighty-four-year-old mother, with whom I'd always been very close, and it was time to cut ties. After all, she was fine with the idea of ​​me leaving, because in a conversation we'd had a few months before, I'd made her understand that it was time to start living my own life, and that's how she understood. I admit that when I hugged her that night before I left, she looked at me and said, "I don't know if this will be the last time we see each other," and I saw sadness and emotion in her eyes. She probably held back her tears until I closed the door so I could leave peacefully. I don't know, and I'll never know.

Leave my belongings behind? I admit that, up until that moment, I'd always been very dependent on material things. That whole "just in case" thing, of keeping things. But now was the time to prioritize, since I only had the option of taking 23 kilos of my things from my past to a new life to come. After all, things come and go, and clothes and shoes can be found anywhere!

To leave a whole life behind...

But what life? The emptiness I had in it? The emptiness that lacked meaning? I didn't want to continue living it. Every day I felt more out of place.

I asked myself countless questions as I gazed out the bus window into the deep darkness of the night, as dark and uncertain as my future from the next day onwards. My whole life was crammed into a single suitcase! Thoughts bombarded me, like my incessant sleep, so I decided to silence them, if only for a while, and surrender myself to the arms of Morpheus.

Once at the airport, the adventure began! And with it, the messages of good wishes from my friends who patted me—albeit virtual—on the back, encouraging me that everything would be okay.

The flight departed punctually at 12:40. Once on the plane, there was no turning back or regrets. The decision was made.

DING DING It tingled to announce that we should fasten our seatbelts because it was time for takeoff. My hands gripped the armrest. I felt that strange sensation in my stomach again, but this time, it was like the plane taking off, a mixture of excitement, tension, and relief all at once. I simply closed my eyes and surrendered to what fate had in store for me. 

As the sun set behind the plane windows, my thoughts became clearer and more positive. After all, I had waited almost 30 years to fulfil my dream of living in England, a dream that, until two years ago, I had believed unattainable.

No one believed I could achieve it. When they asked me about it and I—innocently—told them of my plans, they nodded and seemed "interested," but under their breath, they made faces or exchanged glances with others, muttering to themselves, "Yeah, right! You think it's that simple! Go! But in a month you'll be back, defeated." Those, sadly, were words coming from my own family.

No one understood the fire I carried within me, which, for many years, had been on autopilot, waiting for me to rekindle that dream, postponed by life's inclement weather.

No one knew that I had begun studying English at the age of six, encouraged by my parents so that, in the future, I could apply it to anything. Nor that I study the geography and culture of the place to be prepared and for them to see that I truly wanted to live there.

Since my adolescence, I felt I belonged to those distant lands and that I should "return" to that place because it was my destiny. My family didn't understand either, since we were all of Italian descent. The most logical thing would have been for me to feel that way about Italy, but that wasn't the case, and it was a kind of disappointment for them.

I always found it difficult to explain what internally motivated me to feel that way about England. The quickest answer was that perhaps in another life, I had lived there and now, in this one, I had to return to fulfil an unfinished purpose. I don't know.

The hours of the flight passed, and suddenly, new questions assaulted my mind: "What will you do when that paid week in the London hostel is over? Where will you live? How will you live?" I simply listened to them mentally, closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and answered myself: "I don't know! I only know that this is the best decision I've ever made. I'm going to live in London! I've wanted to for so long; what more could I ask for?"

Suddenly, while I was deep in thought, I heard "DING DING" once again, but this time, the pilot announced that we were arriving in London and that the temperature and sunshine were pleasant. I thought to myself, "It couldn't be any other way!"

And so a new chapter in my life began at forty-one, after selling my handmade soap and cosmetics business, which I had had for twelve years, to invest it in the adventure of fulfilling my teenage dream of living in England.

Today, almost seven years after that day, I accept and understand that everything had to be this way. I wouldn't change a thing. I wouldn't bring anything back with me beyond what I nervously packed in my suitcase that day, nor do I feel guilty about anything I left behind.

After all, what was left behind could continue. But I needed to take this step to leave my comfort zone and start a new life with a renewed purpose that would remind me of who I am.