I’m staring outside at a lifted Chevy Silverado 4×4 truck baking in the steaming Texas sun. It’s 6:16 p.m. and feels like 100 degrees outside. Everyone in this Starbucks works silently on their devices, occasionally looking up into the abyss where workers shake drink shakers and cars speed by. This is my home: small-town Schertz, Texas.
A couple of weeks ago at this time of day, though, my eyes were heavy from jet lag. The sun was already down, and I’d be reaching for my jacket, putting it on carefully enough to not mess up the beanie strategically placed on my head.
Then I’d speed to the train station, relieved to sit on the blue-cushioned seats after walking more than 10,000 steps. I’d ride the three or four stops back to Redfern Station and hop down the street to my conveniently placed apartment and my four roommates: Kyla, Vivienne, Michele and Ella.
That was a typical day during my five-week study abroad experience in Sydney, Australia. I had escaped the Texas heat for a comfy Australian winter — yet opened a gateway to a fiery realm of self-reflection, new perspectives and, most importantly, gratitude.
Observations of a First-Timer
This was my first time ever leaving the country. I chose Australia due to its lack of a language barrier, lower dollar value, U.S.-like infrastructure, and reputation for safety, good vibes and friendly people. I chose an apartment with roommates instead of a single dorm room, hoping I’d have built-in friends.
Leading up to the trip, my anxiety levels peaked. I felt nervous to leave my friends and those close to me; goodbyes were hard, and my confidence in making new friends started to crumble.
Everyone tells you before a trip like this — one you’ve dreamt of your entire life — that you’ll have “the best time ever,” or that “it will change your life.” While the intentions were sweet and heartfelt, I couldn’t help but wonder: “What if I don’t have the same experience as everyone else?” or “What if I don’t enjoy my time there?”
Nonetheless, the United Airlines ticket was booked. At this point, my pimple-scattered face reflected the amount of pressure I placed on myself. But I made it my mission to make the best of this trip — and, most importantly, of myself.
I carefully navigated my way through LAX and to Sydney, making small talk and gaining recommendations from any Aussie natives I ran into. Once in Sydney, I met other exchange students, and we were shuttled to our housing.
I remember opening the door to my apartment. Five doors eerily stared me in the face as I stood in the skinny red hallway. I walked to my room at the end of the hall and opened the door to a blank white room with a bed, TV, desk and a whole new commitment. Here I was in Australia, 8,628 miles from what I’ve ever known and loved.
Balancing Classes and Travel
My five weeks gave me plenty of time to accomplish everything I set out to do. During my first week, my roommates and I navigated the city together. We found the nearby mall, visited the Sydney Opera House and saw a show there, peeked around the University of Sydney’s campus, went to the markets on Glebe Street, and enjoyed our last days of freedom before classes began.
I took a five-week organizational communication class and a three-week class called “Sex, Rock and Roll in the U.S.” In all honesty, I figured these classes would be an easy breeze, so I could really focus on exploring the land “Down Under.” But it turns out the “study” part of “study abroad” can’t be ignored.
Ironically enough, I had one class for four hours a day, five days a week. Monday through Friday, I watched the sun set while my peers chatted with the teacher or zoned out during the 10-minute discussion of the annotated bibliography due on Sunday. I could not believe this was my reality.
Luckily, before one of my classes started, I took a weekend trip to Melbourne — my favorite part of my whole visit. I flew domestically on Qantas and stayed with my boyfriend’s cousin, Brianna. Melbourne reminded me so much of New York City.
Each morning, I’d open the window to the surrounding array of buildings standing tall. Gargoyles Gary and Gwen kept watch, and steam shot up from a nearby roof. On my first day there, I took the tram to Fitzroy, down the grid-like streets (similar to those of New York City) and ate at Mile End Bagels. Strolling around Fitzroy was like a breath of fresh air.
The skies were clear, and all I could do was carry myself with my nose in the sky and a smile on my face. Popping in and out of shops, I ran into the kindest people, stopped to make friends (like Daniel at the perfume shop), and talked for however long I wanted. Time ceased to exist. It was just me and the calm feeling of walking in the shiny outer part of a beautiful city.
Brianna and I bonded; we watched “Wicked” in the evening, grabbed dumplings in Chinatown and pondered whether our pork breakfast burgers were undercooked at the Queen Mary Market. Another evening, I went to my first footy game (yes, it is different from rugby) and met up with some long-distance friends, Eva and Angie, at the Provincial Hotel back in Fitzroy. Melbourne’s lively nightlife called for laid-back good times compared to the bustle and seriousness I witnessed in Sydney.
Prized Moments — and Misgivings
The middle three weeks (when both classes overlapped) felt stale but flew by. I’d wake up, hit the gym, go to class and come home to eat bok choy, chicken and rice while enjoying the new episode of “Love Island USA.” On weekends, I’d work on homework, shop and try new restaurants.
It’s true: The coffee in Australia is sooo good! I tried new places and brought friends to my favorites: Thecca for the amazing buttermilk pancakes, RaRa for delicious ramen and chicken karaage, and Rivareno in Bondi for the precious mango gelato.
The sights in Australia were beautiful, the markets were great, and the wildlife was everything I dreamt it would be. But in some moments throughout my experience, I felt empty. I missed my friends back home, and although I made great ones in Australia, I never felt especially close to them, unlike what I had heard from others’ experiences abroad.
Where was Brooke when I got lost in the Westfield Mall? Where was Reagan when no one waited for me to catch up? Where was Lindsey when no one got the joke I made? I obsessed over comparing my friendships to other people’s on the trip. I’d second-guess my class decisions. I thought, “If only I signed up for the other class they’re in,” or “If I didn’t have class this long every day of the week, I’d be closer to them.”
Alone in such a foreign, stressful space, those inner challenges and thoughts crept in easily. It clouded my ability to appreciate all the greatness right in front of me.
To my pleasant surprise, however, my roommate and best friend visited for a few days. I took her to my favorite spots. We went to Bondi Beach and Taronga Zoo. I had a blast having Reagan with me. Being her tour guide boosted my confidence in myself: I could navigate this city well, I found amazing spots — and I made it all the way to Australia!
After Reagan left, my mom came for my final week. We went up to Brisbane and Surfers Paradise with family friends. There, we petted kangaroos and a koala, and fed lorikeets!
Comparisons and Gratitude
By the end of my trip, I longed to go home. I missed my friends, my boyfriend Aidan, and a good hamburger. It wasn’t until I returned home that I realized how fragile my mental state had become after all this time. Then it dawned on me how much I had let comparison shape my trip.
While in Australia, all I could think about was what was missing and how my experience didn’t match all the dreamy study abroad stories I’d heard. Others found lifelong best friends, hung out every night and sobbed coming home. My discontentment blinded me.
I missed so many things about Texas, yet when I got home, I finally realized how much I missed about Australia. I missed the calm of the café in Gymea while eating a goat cheese and asparagus tart, the small white dog outside the laundromat, and the calls of the wild cockatoos. I missed the ease of transportation, the safety, and the people! Skies were blue, air was fresh, and everything was so healthy and green — but I let the comparisons cloud my vision.
My experience in Australia is one I wouldn’t trade for the world. Not because it was like everyone else’s, but because it taught me gratitude and instilled the idea that comparison is the thief of joy. Still, the trip built my strength in self-confidence, independence and ability to ask for help. I’ve been reminded of the importance of gratefulness, contentment and appreciation of “the little things.”
I believe in myself more now after studying abroad. I trust my instincts and am thankful for the ability to try new things. I am excited to continue to count my blessings, starting with my trip to Australia.
This post was contributed by Emily Trevino, a Global Ambassador for Summer 2025. Emily is a Moody College of Communications senior who studied abroad at the University of Sydney in Sydney, Australia
