The Thinking Sapling

Before studying abroad, I’m sure most of us will have looked up dozens of articles and vlogs about what life is like. When I was going through such a phase, these things helped me feel like I wasn’t going in blind and that this opportunity was worth striving for. It’s been nearly two years since I first landed in Singapore, and I’ve never been happier.

However, there is one thing that all students fear before going abroad, and that is the act of leaving home. The thought of leaving what’s familiar for the unknown is always daunting, no matter the reward.

And honestly? I’ve found that fear to be completely valid. So, I want to explore a bit about what it meant to me to be so far from what’s familiar for the first time. Consider it my contribution to the scattered collection of vlogs and blogs that initially inspired me.

The self-discovery a lot of people talk about isn’t an exaggeration. There’s something about being thrown into a different culture that forces you to reevaluate a lot of things. Suddenly, my favourite food wasn’t available; English became my daily language; and the classroom environment was far from what I was used to.

I think what makes this shift occur is the change in expectations. For a lot of people, this could be cultural or religious, but for me, the most significant one that changed was the familial one. To be more specific, it practically melted away.

Before I arrived, I thought the most difficult thing would be finding friends or trying not to forget my Thai while I’m over here. I didn’t quite expect the distance to pose the challenge it did.

You see, when I was back home, one of the greatest motivating factors for my actions was parental advice. Do they think I should do something? Then I should do something. This ran from existential things like school to the small things like what I wore.

Strip that away. How do I decide things? How do I know if I’ve studied enough if my father isn’t there with his not-so-subtle remarks? How do I know whether I’m well dressed if my mother isn’t shaking her head?

I’m mentioning only one factor here, so combine that with so many others. I hope you can see the existential void that is left behind. It’d either take extreme courage or foolishness to look at that and not tremble even slightly.

But the beautiful thing is you get to fill in that void. You get to decide how meaningful everything is to you.

If I were home, I’d be wearing my father’s dress code: a t-shirt, jeans, and sneakers. The shorts and slippers would’ve come as a shock to anyone. But that’s me seeing my friends doing it and deciding I valued comfort enough to emulate them.

Taking a liking to philosophy after a humanities course would’ve rubbed the ideal STEM child image the wrong way.

The cherry on top is the fact that I pressure myself academically more than my parents ever did back home.

It is rather hard to put into words, but it feels like starting from a blank canvas where I’m now allowed to redraw my values.

It’s not without its lonely moments. Once you’re deprived of people guiding you, it suddenly becomes a lot more difficult to decide what to do in tough situations. I miss the feeling of a hand on my shoulder, the ease of decisions made for me, the certainty that someone could always tell me what to do.

I wish I could simply turn to my parents for advice on how to find an internship or how to find off-campus accommodations. Sure, I could call them for advice, but they don’t have live information on the mess I find myself in anymore. Let alone the emotional turmoil these situations cause.

The thing about these moments is that I learn what I want my actions to be. Sure, I might choose wrongly at times, but these moments — especially — challenge me to decide what it is in this world that I find worthwhile.

If you are thinking that you want to study abroad and are still reading this, just know that being scared is probably the most humane reaction to all this. So take a moment to ask, when finally faced with the void, are you ready to decide what holds value? I still am not quite sure what I’m doing in this small life I’ve carved out, but I’m free to change and grow.