My plan was to stay in Spain for one year. I thought it was my only opportunity to live in Europe. My goals? Travel. Party. Make a bunch of friends. Fall in love. Try to enjoy teaching again.
It was August 2019, and I had 7 months left of being 29. 7 months left of society still thinking I’m young, beautiful, and a ravishing rebel without a cause. I figured that, once I turned 30, society would deem me overnight old, ugly, and irresponsible. What would I do when I turned 30 and my visa expired? Where would I live? Who cares when you’re in Madrid and the wine is cheap, the men are beautiful, and every day feels like a dream?
Madrid was my oyster, and I was grabbing as much as I could, headfirst and hands full. Every date, every drink, every discoteca, every experience–it was mine for the taking. And oh, my, was Madrid gorgeous.
Continue reading “6 Years Ago, I Moved to Spain. You Won’t Believe What’s Happened. [Part 2/9 – Year One: Feeling So Gatsby]”
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