"what the journey taught me "

 

THE JOURNEY THAT SHAPED ME

When I look back at the moment I decided to move to the United Kingdom for my studies, I realize I had absolutely no idea how deeply that decision would shape me. I came with the same dreams that almost every international student carries — a vision of building a good life, earning a respected international degree, and settling into a future that felt bigger than the one I had back home. I was part of the 70% who wanted a better life abroad and also part of the 30% who wanted the pride and honour of an international qualification. Today, standing at the edge of four long years in this country, I feel proud of myself. At 30, I’ve achieved more than I imagined, and yet, I find myself in a place of uncertainty, fear, and quiet hope.

When I boarded the flight to the UK, I didn’t know that journey would mark the beginning of a completely different chapter of my life. I remember that long flight clearly — especially the woman sitting next to me. She asked if I was coming for studies. When I said yes, she smiled and told me, “Remember, this country is going to teach you a lot of things. Life here is very different from where you are coming from. Learn fast and give your maximum.” 

I didn’t realise it then, but her words would stay with me through my toughest nights. Coming from a completely different culture, everything in the UK was a shock — the way people behaved, the system, the work culture, the weather, the lifestyle, everything. But I was determined to adapt. I kept reminding myself that the world I had stepped into was different, but it was also the world I had chosen. And gradually, I did adapt. Within months, this new place started feeling familiar. Slowly, it shaped me into a stronger, more confident version of myself.It was a real struggle to find a part-time job in the beginning. I applied everywhere, waited, prayed, and kept checking my phone for replies that never came. Eventually, I ended up working night shifts in a care home. And that place… it changed me in ways I never expected.”

“Back home, I used to be an OCD type of person — very particular about everything, every detail, every routine. But once I started working in a care home, my entire perspective on life shifted. I saw people at their weakest, people who couldn’t eat by themselves, walk by themselves, or even remember their own families. It humbled me. It broke something inside me… but it also built something new.” And life in the UK is different — very different. Here, you can live in the same building for years and still not know your neighbour. The social life is limited, the loneliness is real. Work stress follows you everywhere. These things shaped me — they toughened me, matured me, and taught me that life is not always about shining from the outside.”

“I once believed that sitting in a round chair, doing a so-called ‘high-fi job,’ meant success. But now I know… real success comes from surviving the struggles that no one sees, from doing jobs that demand your heart, compassion, and strength.”

Even though my brother and sister were already in the UK, I felt like I was starting from zero. Every place, every experience, every challenge was new to me. But I always believed I was different — not in an arrogant way, but in the sense that I held on to my individuality. I was strict about my dressing, my appearance, and my confidence. Brands didn’t matter because they were expensive; brands mattered because they made me feel good. They reminded me of the person I believed I could become. That sense of identity, that personal standard, stayed with me even when life was falling apart.

Because yes —  not everything was easy.

This journey had its beautiful moments, but it also had its darkest ones. There were days when I was told to go back. There were moments when nothing made sense, when every door I knocked on remained shut, and when I questioned whether I had made the biggest mistake of my life. The pressure of surviving, studying, working, adapting, and dreaming all at once was too much at times. The fear of failure was constant.

 

There was even a moment — a very real, very terrifying moment — where the pain became so heavy that I thought ending my life might be easier than watching my dreams collapse. I had come here with so much hope. Letting go of that hope felt unbearable. But something inside me refused to give up.   maybe it was the belief that if I survived this storm, I would come out stronger.

And I did.

Every setback shaped me. Every closed door taught me something. Every night I cried alone in a foreign country became a lesson in resilience. Today, when I think about those moments, I don’t feel broken anymore. I feel proud. Because those experiences did not destroy me — they built me.

At an age when many people are still trying to figure out their path, I managed to build a beautiful home — not for myself, but for my parents. That house stands as a symbol of every struggle I fought through. I left them back home for a better future, and the pain of being away from them never goes away. But knowing I could give them something meaningful gives me strength.

Now, as January approaches, it will be four years since I left my home country. And in March — March 8, 2026 — my visa will expire. I don’t know what will happen next. I have no guarantee of sponsorship. I’m trying every day, applying everywhere I can, but so far, no doors have opened. It feels like I’m standing on a ship that’s searching for a port to anchor, but the lighthouse is still out of sight.

This uncertainty scares me. But strangely, it also motivates me. Because when I look back, this country has taught me more than any university degree ever could. It taught me to fight alone, to stand on my own feet, to dream beyond limits, to respect every culture, and to build a life from scratch. It taught me pain, but it also taught me strength.

And the truth is — I’m not done. My journey hasn’t reached its end. The story is still unfolding. If nothing works out, I may have to face another difficult chapter. But I am not the same person who boarded that flight years ago. I am stronger, wiser, and far more resilient than I ever believed I could be.

My message to anyone reading this — especially those who feel lost, broken, or uncertain — is this: 

Your struggle does not define your end. It defines your strength. Your pain is not your weakness. It is the proof that you are still fighting.

And your journey, no matter how unpredictable, is shaping you into the person you are meant to become.

I am still waiting for my next door to open. I am still holding on to hope. And I believe, with all my heart, that whatever happens next will lead me to where I am meant to be.

Because sometimes, the most beautiful chapters begin after the darkest nights.   

      Joice💓