All throughout high school, I dreamt of attending a good college and studying abroad in Japan. But as two years at Chapman passed, I realized I tended to stay in my comfort zone, which turned out in my favor.

When the time came to choose my study abroad location, I opted for the University of Roehampton in London – a place that, unlike most other participating students, I came in with no intense passion or adoration for. In all honesty, part of my decision was fueled by a nagging whisper in the back of my head, one subtly planted by society, that said, “If you don’t travel Europe while you’re young and free, you’ll never be able to.”

So, I went to London. Despite the homesickness, the culture shock and the occasional loneliness, I fell in love with the city. My friends and I planned trips all around Europe, daydreaming about art museums and grand monuments we’d only ever seen on TV.

One unforgettable trip was a weekend in Ireland. I went with a friend from high school, who happened to be studying abroad in Rome, Italy. We were headed to Dublin, Ireland, after a long day when my friend received an email from her study abroad program: an urgent notice telling all of the students from her program to book flights home to America. An outbreak of COVID-19 was sweeping northern Italy.

After my friend returned to America, I started rethinking my personal next steps. At this point, the virus hadn’t really hit London yet. Still, I started receiving unsettling stares from the locals around me using the London Underground transit, and hearing horror stories from Asian friends of being harassed or yelled at by strangers.

Although I wanted to finish my semester in London, I didn’t want to be wary or scared in any way. Not long after I booked my flight home, for fear of harassment and being abroad in a foreign country during the pandemic, every study abroad student received emails calling for them to come home too.

A part of me was relieved that I’d be returning to California. I missed the sun. I missed my family. And although Los Angeles has its more-than-fair share of racism and harassment – as all cities do – it was the familiar city I grew up in.

What hit me hardest was what came afterward. I could make a huge list of all the things I feel I missed out on in London. This was my first time in Europe – a ridiculously romanticized experience, whether it deserves the hype or not – and I didn’t have time to go picnicking in southern France or clubbing in Barcelona, Spain.

I don’t plan on pursuing a master’s degree after I graduate from Chapman. I want to dive into the workforce, and I’m not sure when I can ever have another four-month open slot to travel around a country again. I can’t help but feel slightly robbed of the opportunity that was cut short.

But at the end of the day, I’ll be OK.

COVID-19 taught me the significance of gratitude. I remind myself that I actually had an amazing experience before it was cut in half – one that many students don’t have the chance to pursue in the first place. I am close friends with a British student now, and we talk about what we would do in London if I visit again. And most importantly, this entire chapter of my life makes me recognize my privilege. I have treasured memories of a time in a different country. I’m grateful to have a home to be content and safe in during a pandemic. I learned invaluable lessons on how different people react to a single problem, and how I can take a step back to question my own role in this chaotic world.

So, I guess I did get the main benefit of a study abroad experience: a life lesson.