Can I have some advice?

<p>Okay, this is an essay that I have written in the past and I know that it's REALLY long. I don't plan on using this exact piece as my college essay, I was just wondering if this is a good topic to base it off of. Feel free to give any constructive criticism, I'm always looking for areas to improve in!</p>

<p>The weeks prior to my departure were nerve wracking and even a little bit emotional; I had never been so far from my family for so long. I would attempt to console myself by thinking about how, every summer, I go away with my friend to Maine and how I have always been able to cope just fine. This would have succeeded in consoling me if I hadn’t completely understood the drastic difference between traveling five hours away by car and five time zones away by airplane. The anxiety was unbearable. I was afraid; I had no close friends going and I thought that I would truly feel alone. I had no idea what the world was like beyond New England. I could not turn the plane around once it took off, I could not decide a week into the trip that I didn’t want to participate anymore, and I had nobody from home to make me feel any more comfortable about being in a strange place for the first time. I felt stranded and sad. My legs were heavy walking into the airport, my appetite vaporized as I anticipated my flight, and my throat in knots as we neared our destination.
After reading this, one may wonder why I decided to even go at all. Actually, one of the girls on the trip brought that up to me the first day I was there. Our host families were close friends, and, due to the odd weather conditions in Italy at the time, they had been staying with one another while her family waited for the pipes in their own home to thaw out. Equally as nervous as I, she began speaking about how much she missed her family and how she couldn’t wait to go home. Of course, I was feeling the same exact thing, so we discussed how badly we wanted to go home and how we couldn’t wait for these twenty-eight days to be over. She asked me why I even came, since none of the girls that had went were really my friends and since I was so close to my family. I must have known it would have been hard to come. To be honest, I was insulted by her inquiry even if she intended for it to be innocent rather than accusational. I had a goal now. For the remainder of my trip, I was on the lookout for reasons. Why had I decided to go to Italy with a group of girls I hardly knew and while my loveable family was at home anxious for my return? I could hardly answer that question the day I arrived. By my last day, I was wondering how it was possible for somebody to think that they have lived a complete life without having such an experience as I had.
I came back shocking myself with the amount of knowledge I had soaked up during my time abroad. I returned home cooking meals for family and telling them of all of the wonderful foods I had tried while I had been away. They were shocked that I had even tried tripe, the inside lining of a cow’s stomach, and that my host family admired me for trying everything they put out in front of me. My grandmother was especially proud of my new culinary knowledge as I came home with all sorts of spices that I used in making numerous pasta dishes for her and anybody else who was willing to try.
Once I returned home, I found that I was doing a lot better in my Italian class. Prior to the trip, it had been hard for me to grasp everything that my teacher would say; during the trip, it was several times more difficult to grasp what anybody was saying; after the trip, I came home believing that I had learned nothing until I walked into my class and could follow his directions as if they had been spoken in english. It is still very hard for me to speak the language (I tend to talk faster than I think), but I surprised myself over and over again while I was away with what I was capable of doing after being in the midst of it. One day, getting off the bus, I took a wrong turn and found myself headed in the wrong direction (the hills and mountains in the distance were a tad closer than I remembered them being from my host family’s home). I was able to stop at a gas station and ask one of the men working there where I may find Via Frederico Confalinieri and then I was able to follow his directions after he had told me. I was proud of myself for this small achievement; it meant that this trip was not a waste of time or designed to make me feel miserable. I look back on it and praise myself for all that I allowed myself to experience and learn while I was away.
I won’t lie by saying I’m loud and exuberant; I’m very shy to certain people, and it just so happens that the girls who had also gone on the trip were the exact type that I have always been shy towards. They are all successful in one way or another: scholastically, socially, athletically, and even all of the above. I felt feeble and miniscule compared to them in the beginning. Looking back, their personalities haven’t changed in the slightest but now I am so much more comfortable around them as well as others who make me feel small. I may not go out with them on Friday nights, but we exchange friendly conversations in the hallways and during the classes we have together. The lessons I’ve learned in Italy have gone beyond the linguistic and cultural ones. I’ve grown as a person and broken out of my shell. Ever since I’ve gotten back, I’ve spoken to people that, although I have known them for three or more years, I have never said a word to. I would have had a miserable time on my trip if I hadn’t tried to befriend these girls and I’m glad that I was able to open up to them.
This trip would not have been as easy for my family if it hadn’t been for the scholarship I received. I am extremely grateful for this experience and seriously encourage everybody who takes a language class to participate. It is very hard at first to leave your home and live for a month in what seems like an entirely different world, but it is so worth it. During my first couple days of the trip, I wanted to go back in time and refuse to go no matter who told me otherwise. Now, I am extremely grateful for all of those who pushed me to go because, if I hadn’t, I would not have learned so much and I would never had been able to have such an experience.</p>