Breaking in Italy

A few weeks ago, I bought a pair of Doc Marten mary janes. I had been debating the purchase for a while, but eventually my pinterest board was so abundantly covered in pictures of girls wearing them that the purchase felt inevitable. I left the store, the bag swinging from my hand, feeling giddy with the impending joy these shoes would bring. 

Everyone warned me that for the first couple of wears, my feet would be aching, uncomfortable, and possibly covered in blisters. I shrugged off all their advice to wear thick socks and blister band aids and instead marched boldly to the supermarket. My feet hurt more and more with every step I took. 

My journey with my Doc Martens is comparable to my experience in Italy. I was so excited for the joy Italy would bring into my life that I ignored any possible pain I could feel and instead marched boldly onwards. However, just like my shoes, Italy came with some pain. Learning the language has been challenging, balancing travel and school was difficult, and my friends living at home without me seemed cruel. Albeit, just like how any good pair of shoes takes a bit to break in, my life in Italy has taken some breaking in too. 

A picture of me soaking in the sun on a balcony in Florence, life is beautiful.

Eventually, just like how the heels of my shoes molded to my feet, my life here began to take shape as well. I began to form friendships with the girls here, and the pain I once felt walking to the supermarket faded until eventually I was wearing my shoes, living my life in Italy, forgetting that I ever felt pain taking those first steps. 

This experience has taught me that change of any kind may cause discomfort, but like any sturdy shoes made to last a lifetime, the pain of change is worth the possibility of experiencing joy of any kind. These past weeks have taught me that change may hurt at first, but it just takes a little breaking into; and if you ever decide to move to a new country, it might be uncomfortable, so pack some blister band aids. 

Wishing you nothing but blue skies,

Brynn Hennessey