A Barcelona Ending (Or Beginning?)

I have another gift this week. A visitor from home—a second pair of eyes and a second heart in my Barcelona experience.

At first, the timing felt daunting. The week she was free to visit happened to be my final week of study abroad—the week I move out, say goodbye, and try to bottle a thousand memories.

I wondered if her visit would be too much. But it turned out to be exactly what I needed.

What made it feel so easy, so right?

I realized that something bigger was unfolding—something I didn’t plan, but deeply needed. I thought I knew how I wanted my last week to feel, but I was blind to how it would actually manifest.

My visitor is a younger—by age, but not by wisdom—version of me. She lives with the same spontaneity, drive, and openness to life. Our eyes see a similar world; our hearts beat a similar pace. Her presence reminded me that as one chapter closes, there's still room for new ones to begin.

If I’ve learned anything from studying abroad, it’s this: We plan, life laughs.

The first word that comes to mind on how I’ve learned to embrace this is courage. Discovering how to grow up with courage means realizing that you touch places just as much as they touch you.

Barcelona opened up a world I couldn’t have dreamed of, couldn’t have planned for, and certainly couldn’t have controlled. But this version of the experience—this messy, spontaneous, soulful version—only happened because I was brave enough to choose to look at it through a lens of openness.

It’s been amazing to watch a place rise to meet my carefree nature, my spirit, my desire to be moved. In a way I never experienced back home, Barcelona didn’t resist me. It joined me.

Will this end with Barcelona?

I hope not.

I’ve decided to stay a little longer. To answer that question slowly. To sit in the in-between. While my friends head back to the States, I’ll remain here—hopeful that this city will once again extend its hand and help me find a new rhythm, a new lens, and a new community.

Yesterday, after I told my dance teachers I was extending my stay, they applauded me—not for the decision itself, but for the spirit behind it.

They asked me: How did you do it? How did I make so many friends, fall for a Brazilian, help sell out the ballet shows, and find family on the other side of the world?

And I laughed, because the honest answer is kind of cringe: On the plane here, the only thing I managed to write in my journal was that I wanted to get lost.

And now, here I am.

Sitting on the stairs under my apartment after the last metro ride home from school, clutching my new “I ❤️ Barcelona” t-shirt. Tomorrow morning, I’ll wake up on the beach with friends. Tonight, I’ll go upstairs and see my visitor.

And soon, we’ll all part ways again—lost to the world, until we find each other in it once more.

And when we do, I’ll clear a seat for everyone and everything—for the people, the pieces of us we meet along the way, and the revelations we gather from every place we dare to get lost in to find ourselves again.

I love you, Barcelona! I can’t wait for more of you!