Studying abroad: A retrospective

By Ansharah Shakil, May 1 2025—

If you study abroad, you’ll find yourself. That’s the cliche I heard a million times before I even applied to go abroad. I don’t think it’s completely true — at least, I don’t think I understand with complete clarity exactly who I am. What I do understand is something just as important and valuable to me, and what they say about the experience remains true: it will absolutely change you, if you let it. 

I knew I wanted to go abroad in my first year, even though I’d previously never lived alone before, let alone lived in a completely different country. I came back to Calgary for the winter semester, and I left to go abroad in England during the fall. The planning started way before then, during my first and second year, and then again after acceptance with mandated sessions and preparation from the Study Abroad office to assist in adjusting to what studying abroad entails. 

All that work beforehand is helpful, but once you actually get there, you forget everything you told yourself you would do. What sticks with me is the feeling of possibility, the things I loved that I have to miss all the time because they aren’t here. I miss both the big things — the people I met, the trains, travelling, the spontaneity and adventures — and the small things — the walk up the hill, my go-to order from the closest cafe, movie nights with a friend, the library architecture, the tree outside my window.  

Since I’ve come back, whenever anyone has ever asked me if I would recommend studying abroad, I have always said yes. It won’t be perfect, but it will be an incredible experience if you go into it hoping it will be. At the same time, what that experience looks like is going to be different for everyone because everyone is different. If I compare myself to others who have gone abroad, I worry about whether I did enough. But I’m the only person who knows what I needed, and I’m the only person who understands what it was like for me to be there. 

One of the main things I wanted to accomplish abroad was increasing that sense of self-reliance. There’s a certain stigma to doing things alone. Some of the most enjoyable moments I had there were with others. But some of the most fulfilling experiences I had were alone, just me. I couldn’t have imagined travelling by myself or going to concerts by myself before I went abroad, but now I have a bone-deep certainty that spending time with myself is as important as spending time with others. 

That can be hard, of course. I never thought I would miss Calgary, but in September I missed everything about it. It’s hard to arrive alone in a completely new country. I came in hoping I would get along with my flatmates, only to find that we had different values and were never going to become close. The drinking culture in the U.K. is harder to avoid than it is here, and as someone who doesn’t drink, it was impossible not to feel isolated or out of place in that regard. But the right people, the people that matter, won’t care. 

There were so many wonderful people I did meet who were open to connection, who reached out with no judgement, who admitted to feeling the same sense of not belonging, who made me feel like I did belong. It was worth being vulnerable with them. I met them in serendipitous ways that I didn’t think would lead to that friendship — a speed-run type of closeness, one that will linger with me for the rest of my life. There were strangers whose kindness proved to me the inherent goodness of humanity over and over again. I might not ever meet any of these people again, but the time I did spend with them was absolutely worth it. 

I met many locals, but for the most part, I was with other exchange students. I didn’t fully bond with anyone who had come from Canada — though I did attend a Canadian Thanksgiving held by Canadian exchange students, and funnily enough every mention of Canada felt like a glimpse of home — but I felt at home with exchange students from around the world, too. I was homesick while I was gone, but since I’ve come back, I’m homesick for a place that was only home for three months. 

I’ve often thought that if I could go back, I would have stayed longer or spent my time more wisely. The things I told myself then still apply now: to be braver, take more chances and move forward rather than thinking about the past. In the end, regret passes and eventually softens all the hard edges. And one thing I’ll never regret is going on exchange in the first place. 

This article is a part of our Voices section and does not necessarily reflect the views of the Gauntlet editorial board.