Eviana Lopez- Blog Abroad

Blog #1

Final Goodbyes and New Hello's

September 2025

When I arrived in Stirling with my mother, I felt the comfort of having her beside me as we drove through herds of livestock and the grand rolling green hills of Scotland. She has always been my closest friend, my anchor, the person who knows how to make any place feel safe. And as we drove into the city, I found myself watching the streets and hills unfold with equal parts excitement and hesitation. I wanted to take it all in, but part of me was already bracing for the moment she would leave.

The goodbye itself was tender, shaped more by feeling than words. We didn’t need long speeches or dramatic tears to know how much we love each other. It was there in the way she lingered, the way we held onto each other just a little longer than usual, the way silence seemed to say everything we were feeling. The distance in feet suddenly seemed like too much but it was truly about trusting that her love would stay with me even when she wasn’t physically here. Still, the ache was heavy. I imagine an elephant sitting at my chest and then that specific burning sensation behind your eyes before you cry. I had already missed her, even as she turned to leave.

In those first moments alone, I felt a swell of vulnerability. The quiet after she was gone pressed in on me, and for a moment I wondered how I would build a sense of home without her near. But then as the quiet went on and I released the breath I didn't even know I was holding, I felt a sense of uneasy joy for what was ahead.

And so I began to meet new people. Other students carrying their own goodbyes, their own hopes and nerves. We exchanged names, laughed awkwardly about jet lag, and compared notes about our first impressions of Stirling. Each conversation was almost like a small light, flickering against the uncertainty. In those first introductions, I realized I wasn’t navigating this alone. Everyone was carrying their own version of goodbye, their own doorway between comfort and courage.

What surprised me was how quickly hello followed on the heels of farewell. One moment I was watching my mother leave, and the next I was beginning to imagine a life here in Stirling. That doesn’t erase the ache, but it reframes it. This goodbye isn’t a severing  of our relationship but simply a handoff. My mother carried me to this place, and now it’s my turn to carry myself further.

I am beginning to see that arrivals are less about destinations and more about transitions. They hold space for both grief and possibility, for the tension between missing what you had and leaning into what’s ahead. So far in Stirling, I am learning that growth comes not from erasing vulnerability, but from walking with it. It reminds me that I care deeply, that I am capable of change, and that every ending is quietly lined with beginnings.

Hope everyone has a great day!

Thanks,

Eviana Lopez