By Jimena
Four months ago, I arrived in Belgium, experiencing a blend of excitement and anxiety. I had left behind all that was familiar—my home, my friends, my language—and embraced a new life that I had only envisioned based on what I had seen in films and on social media, a life with which I was unfamiliar.
The first month was the hardest. I remember thinking to myself, what am I doing here? Why am I here? Was this a mistake? I felt like an outsider. Like an alien in a new world. While others engaged in laughter and conversation, I kept to myself, yearning to participate. I found myself immersed in a new language—French—that seemed like an impossible wall to climb. Even simple things like asking for water or wanting to tell my host mom that I loved her shoes left me feeling vulnerable and small because I couldn’t find the words to express myself; they didn’t exist. But slowly, word by word, I started to break through that wall. Although it was a lot slower than I expected it to be, French became easier and less daunting. And with this new language, I also learned patience: to have patience with myself because learning a new language takes time. My first couple of weeks, I remember being frustrated with myself because I made so many mistakes: forgetting if the word was masculine or feminine, not knowing the words to express my feelings, or thinking the same sentence in my head 20 times and yet pronouncing it completely wrong. But around month 3, French started to make sense, and thanks to that, it has given me a glimpse into a world that used to feel out of reach.
My host family has been my anchor. At first, it felt strange living with people who were essentially strangers. I worried: Would I fit in? Would they accept me? With time, the patience and generosity of those around me removed my doubts and fostered a sense of belonging. I have gained invaluable insights—not only into Belgian culture but also regarding the significance of embracing new relationships with an open heart. Living abroad forces you to face yourself. Who are you when nobody knows your story? Who do you become when you’re forced to start over?
Belgium has shown me that growth doesn’t come without discomfort. It’s in the moments of struggle—when I mispronounce a French word for the tenth time or have no clue what the conversation is about—that I’m learning the most. It is through these small victories, such as conversing with my host mother in French or forging my first friendship in Belgium, that I find the value in embarking on this gap year.
This journey has presented its obstacles, yet every challenge has been worthwhile. I am no longer the person I was when I boarded the plane, and I cannot wait to see the growth that lies ahead in the coming months.
Here are some photos from my four months living in Belgium: