Author: Maggi Whiston, Graduate Student, International Business
Moving abroad is no small feat. It requires leaving behind the familiar – your favorite
cafes, your go-to stores, and the comfort of routine – to venture into the unknown with
hopes of creating a better future. For some, it’s a new beginning; for others, it’s pursuing
a loved one’s dreams.
In September, I made that leap. I packed my belongings and flew halfway around the
world to Shanghai, China. With limited knowledge of the country, minimal travel
experience, and no previous moving experience, it was a significant step. But I felt that
it was a step that would transform the trajectory of my life.
People often ask, “What’s the biggest difference between the United States and China?”
or “What culture shocks did you face?” But surprisingly, I’ve found myself noticing the
similarities more than the differences. Yes, China has its unique challenges—an
unfamiliar language, a different currency and payment methods, and a very distinct
approach to bathroom culture. But at the end of the day, it’s a country filled with people
simply living their lives: commuting to work, socializing with friends, eating dinner, and
enjoying time with family.
Still, every week brings something new, pushing me to move beyond my comfort zone.
But what really defines a comfort zone? I’ve realized that we don’t truly know our limits
until we’re confronted with a new experience that challenges what we’ve always known.
Did I inherit these hesitations from my parents? Did the media I grew up with shape my
willingness to try new things? Or were my fears influenced by the concerns of others?
Recently, I took a small step outside my comfort zone by trying prawns. Seafood, in
general, has always been something I’ve avoided, partly because I can’t help but picture
Dory from Finding Nemo swimming around, judging my choices. But with the
encouragement of friends, I decided to give it a shot—and it was delicious. That
moment wasn’t just about food—it was about challenging a long-held barrier, however
small it seemed.
So, perhaps the key to breaking through these boundaries is embracing the bold
curiosity we often leave behind in our youth. Children are fearless and somehow, their
limited worldview paradoxically opens them up to so many more possibilities.
In the end, it’s not the unfamiliar that holds us back—it’s the limitations we set for
ourselves. And as we move through the world, it’s these invisible lines that shape what
we’re willing to experience. But how often do we stop and ask ourselves what those
lines are really made of? And, more importantly, what happens when we step beyond
them?
