Most of my friends in the College of Letters (COL) who took Spanish went abroad to Madrid, but I wanted something different (not, of course, that there’s anything wrong with Madrid). All those clichés people spout about the “comfort zone,” how leaving it is scary but “fulfilling” or whatever, really convinced me. So I wanted to get as far away from what I knew as possible.

Buenos Aires wasn’t the most logical choice for this purpose. Yes, it is very far in terms of distance, but it is still a developed city. It has shops, tourists, cars, public transportation, et cetera. I’m not lacking in any of the comforts of capitalism here in Argentina. The education offered is very, very good. Maybe I chose to go so far away because I was misled by the spatial metaphor of “comfort zone.”

All I know is that during the last few years, especially toward the end of 2013, a powerful, creeping feeling began to come over me. It made me ask myself: “Who are you? Do you even know?” I could hardly fathom my own identity. I just couldn’t picture it, if that makes any sense. So I decided to challenge myself as much as possible, go somewhere entirely new where I didn’t know anybody, and essentially lose my entire support system so that I could be left alone to “find myself.” Then my four-and-a-half-year-long romantic relationship ended, which definitely was not part of the plan, and I was truly left feeling completely, utterly, unfathomably alone, living in an apartment in South America with a 64-year-old woman who really likes to yell at me.

The fallout of my breakup is still unfolding like a slow-motion train wreck, and it has compounded my experience considerably. To use another unfortunate cliché, studying abroad is like a roller coaster: full of ups and downs. My ups are pretty good, while my downs are often unbearable, more than I imagine they are for most foreign students. I was so obsessed with trying to “find myself” that I forgot some of the things that were most important to me. (I am equally disgusted as you are, reader, at how obvious this hackneyed conclusion should have been.)

I’m having a lot of experiences that, on paper, should make me feel good about myself. I’m reading Derrida in Spanish (I don’t recommend it) and discussing it with classmates; I’m starting a Spanish poetry circle with Argentines and other foreign students; I’m writing a lot of music; and my Spanish is approaching acceptable, or perhaps even good.

Yet as much as all of this is true, every day is still a challenge. Bus drivers yell at me and I don’t know how to react; creepy dudes creep up and creepily hit on my friends; I struggle to understand anything and everything in my philosophy seminar at the University of Buenos Aires (I’m the only foreigner in the class); and on top of all of it, I’ve lost my best friend. Now I need to learn to be alone and deal with all of this. It isn’t easy.

Don’t get me wrong: I’m also enjoying myself a lot. This might actually be some sort of transformative experience. But growing can really hurt (I’m 6’4’’, so I should know). Study abroad is way too hard to be therapy, but it is an opportunity to question my beliefs.

The point is, I could have planned this whole thing better. I could have tried not to distance myself because of some misguided idea about my “identity,” and could have realized that an “identity,” or whatever I mean by that word, is something that is acted, that forms through behaviors and habits that conform to your ideals.

My experience is far from over, and because of some of these things I’ve come to understand, I have hopes for the future. I’ve formed a relationship with an amazing guy with whom I expect to be lifelong friends (and who has already started making plans to come visit me in Seattle). I’m being challenged intellectually. I’m recording music. Sometimes it’s enough, and sometimes it isn’t, but I feel okay. And even if I feel unhappy sometimes, it’s more than worth the experience for the high moments and the personal growth. I had to find that out after doing some personal shrinking, but I found it out nonetheless.

When studying abroad, you can’t put so much pressure on yourself to find your identity. You just have to try to act according to your beliefs and ideals. Then, at the end of the day, you can sit down, alone, and ask yourself who’s there. If the person who responds isn’t someone you like, don’t get depressed and drown it in unhealthy ways. Just think about who you would have wanted to respond, and go act like that person.

When it comes down to it, it’s really that simple. Or it’s the hardest thing imaginable.