‘I’m going to America!’, I announced proudly with tears in my eyes. After years and years of dreaming of doing Camp America, I finally got my three-month working visa to work in a Summer Camp in the town of Medford, New Jersey. It was one of the happiest days of my life, and I spent the entire train journey from London back to my home town of Crawley, West Sussex, absolutely bawling to my dad about how my dreams had come true. After one failed attempt to get a visa in the early months of 2020, it felt as though doing Camp America would always be a fantasy, a ‘one-day’ dream. But after exiting the American Embassy in January 2022 I was already packing my bags for the summer of a lifetime. Upon arrival to the United States in June, I met up with Maddie, another girl going to the same camp as me. We excitedly met at the baggage claim at JFK airport, as we picked up our heavy suitcases and got ready to make our excursion from New York to New Jersey. We took the subway into New York City
Ah, breakups. Everyone has one at some point in their lives, yet they make us feel so isolated in our feelings, as though nobody has ever and could ever feel the pain that we're feeling. Growing up, I imagined heartbreak to consist of burning their t-shirts, sobbing over sad songs and shovelling barrels of ice cream into your mouth until you were fine and dandy (I'm looking at you , Legally Blonde). But alas, that was definitely not the case. You know that feeling where you're sad so you listen to sad songs to feel worse because crying is low-key therapeutic? Well, the pain I felt from heartbreak was so bad that I'd have a full-blown panic attack if I heard even the first note of Somebody Else by The 1975. Funnily enough, I knew I was healing when it got to a point where I could enjoy listening to sad breakup songs and letting the tears come as they pleased. I genuinely didn't think I would ever be happy again or find anyone new. Having said that, my real worst