Full Circle

Last night I met up with a friend whom I met while working at a publishing house in London. As her boyfriend introduced me to a friend of his he made the comment that I was the only one who stayed in publishing. I almost interjected, but as I thought about his statement, I realized that was the way it looked even though it was far from the truth.

In undergrad I had at one time considered a career in publishing. I applied to many positions at a local magazine publisher and to be honest, it was what drew me toward my job in London. But after returning Stateside and seeing how much the industry was changing I decided to change my plan as well.

I did a little marketing for a computer engineering firm and, after grad school, I fell into an account executive role in Boston working for Tech and health care clients. Which eventually led to my web content management experience and further fueled my interest in technology and the digital space. I truly enjoyed all of these roles and had never once looked back at publishing. But somehow, recently after interviewing for a more digitally focused position, I found myself in the custom content division of a large publishing house here in the city.

So, in a way, he was right. It was out of that idea and the decisions that I made following London which have somehow led me full circle without me ever consciously making the choice to.

City Life is so Transient

I first experienced this while living and working in London. Each week brought a new going away party. There was the Australian who was moving back home to return to school and the American who was moving back to be with her husband. It was the Brit who got a new job and the Canadian who was going to try her luck living in another Commonwealth country.

It was an endless stream of goodbyes. And, living on a visa in a foreign country makes you acutely aware that someday the goodbye party will be for you.

I moved back home and soon forgot the parade of goodbyes and the novelty of meeting new coworkers every few weeks. That is, until New York.

I recently said goodbye to my first friend at NYP.

We met at orientation almost a year ago. I can clearly remember the adventure we had in finding the ID office that first day. Even though we worked in different departments, we stayed in touch throughout the course of the year. We tried to meet for lunch on a fairly regular basis and would randomly run into each other in the hallways at work. It was nice to have a friend my age who was interested in exploring the neighborhood with me.

She was from the Philippines, and like most non-native New Yorkers, had no intentions of settling in the city. I knew she was planning to return home and help run the family business, but I didn't realize it would be so soon. I met her for lunch on a Friday and she told me she was moving on Sunday.

Deja vu. It was London all over again.

Work is a little more lonely these days but I've been here before. I know that it's only a matter of time before I meet someone else to have lunch with and I've now got a standing invitation to visit Manila.

No one ever stays put in a city this large...including me. I wasn't expecting to surround myself with a permanent circle of friends here, but I have to admit, all this is still a bit surreal to a girl who spent her entire life in a town that no one ever leaves and hardly ever moves to.

Adventure of a Lifetime

For over 40 years, BUNAC has been providing students the opportunity to live and work abroad. They offer programs to the UK, Ireland, Australia, New Zealand and Canada. BUNAC helps you obtain a work visa and provides support in job and flat hunting once you reach your destination. They also arranges social outings once you arrive in the country to help you make friends and really experience your temporary home.

The following excerpts came from my journal I kept while in the UK:

Upon learning that the work visa for the Britain programme was only eligible to University students for for those who had graduated within the past six months, I knew it was now or never. I started talking more and more about the possibility of doing the programme and before I knew it, I had talked my college roommate and two of my best friends from childhood into going as well.

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Thursday, February 6, 2003:

I awake early to say goodbye to my mom and sisters before they head off to work and school. I also want time for one final repacking of my suitcase to make sure I have everything I could possibly envision needing for the next six months. I begin to cry as I tell my mom I’m not really sure about my decision anymore.

She hugs me and says,
“You’ve always been my adventurous one and I know you’ll have a great time. Go and have fun.”

It’s a bitterly cold morning. The first snow of the season had fallen the night before and I could see my breath as I step out the front door. I struggle with my suitcase and wait for Melissa to arrive. Around 8 am, she and her dad pull up. My dad and I hop in the car and we all head for Des Moines and the airport.

We get on the plane and as the flight attendants begin their speech, I realize there is no turning back. I take one last look out the airplane window at sun shining on the snowy expanse around me and then buckle up, not knowing that this would be the last time I would see the sun for about a week.

Friday, February 7, 2003:
We arrived into London on a direct flight from Chicago O’Hare. It’s 7:30 am and the plane touches down on the runway at Heathrow. It’s gray and rainy outside and, at 50 degrees, considerably warmer than the weather had been in Iowa when we left.

We collect our luggage and head for customs. The customs officer requests to see our bank statements, work visas and return tickets. He demands we explain the BUNAC scheme to him and once we have satisfactorily convinced him we are only there to work temporarily, he grants us entrance to the country.

We are now residents of the UK for the next five months.


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So much happened in those five short months that I could write an entire blog just about London. But I will fill you in on the one key detail you need to know for the rest of my story to make sense.

I ended up finding a job as an Editorial Assistant for Britain's largest independent publishing company while abroad. I was so excited as I set up the interview. I had always been interested in the publishing field and was excited for an opportunity to work in a place like this. My excitement grew once I got to the interview and learned the position would be working on a supplemental directory for PR Week, one of the biggest titles in my industry.

How great it would be to work on something related to my industry. It would look very impressive upon returning home and trying to break into the PR field.

My role on the directory was researching appropriate listings and helping get them ready for publication. One of the sections of the directory was education - a listing of all communications and PR programs in the States. A few schools stood out in more than one category and this was where I first became aware of Emerson College.

We enjoyed every minute of our life in London and before we knew it five months had passed.

Leaving the UK was bittersweet. There were things from home I had missed and of course I was looking forward to seeing my friends and family, but there was so much I was leaving behind as well.

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The entire ride to the airport I tried not to cry. As we drove out of the city, I watched the row houses passing by and reflected on everything that had happened since we first rode in on the Airbus. That gray, wet February morning flashed back to me in snippets. It seemed so long ago, yet I could recall is as if it were yesterday.

My thoughts turned to home and the US. I wondered how much had changed and, more importantly, how much I had changed since leaving.


Soon we were in line to board our flight. I remember the stifling heat and thinking I would be grateful for the air conditioning on the airplane. Ahead of us in line was a large group of American tourists dressed in shorts and t-shirts. They were being obnoxiously loud and kept complaining about the heat and everything else. The British couple behind us commented on their rude behavior and I remember agreeing that they should stay home if they were going to complain about the differences.

Wasn’t that exactly why people traveled? If everything were the same as what you already knew, there would be no novelty or sense of adventure in traveling.

The line began to move and Melissa and I stopped for a moment to take in one last look of England before entering the boarding ramp.

“What are you thinking?” I asked her.

“That it will probably be a long time before I see this country again,” she said.

“I know,” I said sadly and we turned and entered the aircraft.

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In the days that followed, I tried to readjust to American life. I know that sounds weird, but returning home to me was a culture shock. England is very similar to the US, but it’s also very different. I wasn’t even gone for a very long period of time, but it was amazing how quickly and how much I had adjusted to life in England.

People kept asking me if I was glad to be home. Yes, I was. But also, I wasn’t. I felt as if my adventure had ended just as it was really beginning. I had taken a chance on something very few people ever even consider doing. I had done it…and done it well. I felt empowered and wasn’t ready to let go of that feeling or have to start all over again already.

“A mind that has been stretched by a new experience can never go back to its old dimensions.” – Oliver Wendell Holmes.


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It has now been almost seven years since I moved back from the UK and sadly, it has been seven years since I’ve set foot on European soil. I’m sure much has changed and I still dream of going back and sitting on “my” bench in Regent’s Park in the Spring.

I’m frustrated that life since then has kept me from one of my great passions in life – traveling. But I also smile reflecting on my impulsive decision so many years ago to move to a foreign country.

You see, if I had never gone to London, I would never have heard about Emerson College and the Global Marketing and Advertising program to which I would eventually apply.

And if I hadn’t lived in London, I would never have had the courage to accept a spot in the program and move all the way across my country to start a new life in a city where I knew no one.

Revisting Old Dreams

“I had almost given up on the reality that living there was a real possibility.”

This was the statement that hit me in a conversation I had last night with my roommate who recently returned from a trip to Greece.

This morning I’m still thinking about that statement.

My affinity for London and European culture never died, it’s just been buried as time has passed.

The sadness that I felt boarding that American Airlines flight back to the US in July of 2003 is still crystal clear in my mind. I knew I was leaving behind an experience and a city that I had loved more than anything I had previously experienced. I wasn’t done living there and my heart was heavy that day because I knew it would probably be a long time before I was again in the UK.

In the first few months that followed returning stateside, I schemed of all the ways I could return to London. I applied for a job with the American office of my British company; I applied to American Universities with the thought that maybe I could do BUNAC again; and even applied to a few British University programs. But none of these worked out for me.

As time passed, I discovered Emerson’s Global Marketing and Communications program and applied as a compromise. I would be learning more about the field I love while working with people from other cultures - which I really missed having returned to Iowa. I would also be developing skills that could put me closer to getting a job overseas.

But after graduation, I once again got caught up in the details of daily life and I’m sad to realize that six years have passed already since I set foot on European soil. Circumstances always seem to get in the way and I also realize I let go of the dream somewhere in that time span. I had convinced myself to be practical and that moving back wasn’t a real possibility.

No other city has ever made me feel as instantly at home as London did and somewhere along the way I resigned myself to never being able to have that feeling again. But this conversation brought all those feelings flooding back and because nothing else is making me as happy here right now, when it’s time to start seriously considering my next move, it might be time to revisit that dream.