A few days ago I was walking along the boardwalk in Tel Aviv, basking in the mild tipsiness of the mid-day corona I had just enjoyed on the beach. In an instant I felt a wave of nostalgia pass through me as I found myself transported to that same boardwalk four years earlier, explaining to my father that I, under absolutely no circumstances, could ever go home. He had come to visit me for the weekend as I was spending the first semester of my junior year of high school studying abroad at a boarding school right outside of Tel Aviv. Now, 4 years later, I was back in the same place, remembering the words of my father as he assured me not to worry, that I would have a million incredible experiences like this one again.
When I mention that I studied abroad in high school, people often ask me why- why would a 16 year old go across the world on her own for four months? I often mask my decision as a result of the undying curiosity I had for the world, the eagerness I felt to travel, my desire to really immerse myself in another country at a young age. While all of these things were true, I really went to Israel for one reason: I wanted to leave. I felt suffocated by my small suburban town, the pressures of getting into a good college and the monotonous motions of high school life. I carried with me an unrelenting sensation that I was supposed to be somewhere else, and that feeling led me to get on a plane to Israel with 40 strangers from around the country without much remorse for the life I was leaving behind.
Israel marked the beginning of my passionate love affair with life. I spent the semester traveling the country, engaging in fascinating historical tales and learning about the multitude of different ways that people live their lives. I became filled with a deep love for every place we visited and everyone around me. I experienced some of the happiest moments of my life- stargazing in a huge ‘cuddle puddle’ every night of a four day hike, swimming in the ocean in Tel Aviv in the middle of the night, spending hours in my Israeli counselor’s room drinking tea and telling stories, laughing as I was told we were the slowest people to ever climb Masada… I felt my world expanding by the day and I woke up each morning smiling. To sum up, I was unbelievably happy.
For years, a friend from boarding school and I planned to come back together. I think a part of me thought that if I did, I’d recover some of the happiness I left in Israel, and I’d once again feel some of the striking and wonderful emotions of a 16 year old completely unsure of life. But most of what I felt was a profound mourning for the past. It was a stark reminder that no two moments can ever exist in the same way. When you spend your life traveling, when you get horribly accustomed to saying goodbye, that’s a truth that you just have to accept.
That day on the boardwalk I was riddled with fear- fear of returning to a life where I felt I didn’t belong. This trip to Israel has forced to let go of many beautiful moments but it has also overwhelmed me with a sense of how far I’ve come since the semester I lived here. That fear of being trapped in a life I want no part of has long disappeared. Everyday since I returned home I’ve only ever chosen a life that makes me happy. Everyday since Israel I’ve strived to do what my father told me I would- to fill my life with a million incredible experiences.