Saltar para: Post [1], Pesquisa e Arquivos [2]


Deciding is choosing and choosing means always losing something in favor of something else.

Said my first philopshy teacher, back in fall/winter 2013. I was already in love with the subject at that point and this was just one of those things that stuck with me. I knew when I heard it that I would hold onto those words many times throughout life. This is one of those times.


I didn't decide going to London on a whim, rather I did it step by step. First when I went to that 'study in the uk' fair back in senior year. Then through researching thouroughly every possible degree and university. When I booked a meeting and convinced my mom to come with me. When I sent my final application at the beginning of uni. In a hazy november morning in which I promptly answered "yes" when asked if my place at Goldsmiths should be firmed. In a way, even way before that when in nineth grade I decided I wanted to a gap year; although not quite the same thing, it was still a plan to leave.


I was asked on studyblr why I was planning to move to London rather than finishing my degree here. After a moment of pondering I answered (and realized then) "I always wanted to study abroad". And to be honest that's the truth, for years now that's been on my mind. When I finally got accepted it was like a piece falling into place. I truly feel like a lot of things have led to this (no, it wasn't coincidence). All of this is to say that I want to go like I've never wanted anything my life! It was a pipe dream for so long and now it really is a dream come true; some times I feel like might have to pinch myself 'is this real life?'. I realize this is going to change my life forever in every single aspect of it, but at the same time I know it's all meant to be and things will all turnout well in the end, no matter what.


However, I feel like people think I'm doing this light-heartedly. Like I'm just casually leaving life and everything I've ever known behind, effortlessly. Do not be fooled my friend, because for every inch of me that is hysterical about going, another one is aching about leaving. These are two different things in my mind - going and leaving. They co-exist peacefully in some sort of simbiose because that's just the way things are: you choose and you inherently leave something behind. This text is in honour of all the things that I know damn well I'm leaving by going.


People. I have wrote and rewrote about my awareness of how for the most part things don't last forever. And how that's okay. I know that by leaving I'm going to lose touch with old friends and newer ones. I knew all along this year that I was giving up on the people that I met and have grown to love in Lisbon. I know some people won't be able to keep up with me miles away, the same way I won't be able to keep up with them. And as much as it is okay (it really is, I promise), it's still hurts a little. Hurts to know my parents are growing older too and that I will be witnessing that from afar. And so are my grandparents which are well beyond their own life expectancy. And my sister who is steadily but surely becoming an adult. Little things like birthdays and dinner parties that I'll miss and won't ever get back. Having lunch with mom on an uni break or dinner with dad when it's just the two of us. These things that I love so much and could never take for granted. Hurts to know that it has been my own personal choice for my own personal future and life to put friendships and people on hold. I'm not a fool to expect everyone and everything will be the same when I get back. But there's beauty in that too. In the people who are able to say I'll be here on the sidelines while follow your dreams.


Last but definitely not least - no one can possibly understand how much it hurts to have willingly decided to stop riding. Everyone who meets me from now on won't know me as the horse girl. Every time I'm on the saddle these days feels like a precious little gift from God Himself. And it terrifies me knowing that as soon as I hop on that plane on september 17th, I won't know when I'll be riding again. The only thing giving me solace is that I refuse to believe this is it, the end, but rather a hiatus. I know whithin me I'll never stop being the crazy horse girl, even if people won't see me that way anymore. I'm just putting that label to rest for a while in order to give space and time to other sides of me to bloom. 


You could ask me whether the cons outweight the pros, but here's what I know. I will make new friends, even if they don't replace the lost ones. I will call and facetime and show up on my parent's doorstep unnannounced. I will be home for the summer writing long posts and listening to Taylor Swift on warm attic nights. We'll still hop on planes to see and discover the world together. I will have stories to tell and to hear about with my friends who stay. And eventually, I will find my way back to where I belong: at the barn.