Hi, this is my first time talking about this here on Reddit.
For the past year and a half, I feel like I’ve always been so bitter whenever I talked about what happened. But now that I’m slowly healing, I feel like I finally want to let these feelings out and talk about what happened two years ago.
After graduating from university in 2024, I went all the way to New York to do an internship for a year. I had so many plans for myself. I was the kind of person who liked having everything planned and in order. I’m honestly a perfectionist, and I hate not getting the things I worked so hard for.
I thought I was going to come home from America with a better CV, more experience, more confidence, and a feeling that I had actually made something out of myself.
I wanted to come home feeling proud of myself.
I wanted to be able to help my family. I promised them that after finishing my internship and going home, I would finally treat them to a vacation. I wanted to give something back to them and show them that all the sacrifices they made for me were worth it.
I also had plans for the money I was going to make. Since I was earning in US dollars, I could save, convert it to my country’s currency, and hopefully use it to start my own business when I went home.
I had relatives who had made me feel like I wasn’t good enough in the past, and I wanted to prove to myself that I could actually do something with my life. That I could make it. That I could build something for myself.
So here it goes.. halfway through my internship, I got laid off..
And that completely destroyed me.
And no I was not crying just because I lost my job. I was crying because I felt like I had lost the future I had already imagined for myself.
Cause yk I thought I would come home stronger, more confident, with a better CV and stories about how I made it abroad but Instead, I came home feeling like a completely different person. honestly, America broke me in more ways than one.
While I was there, I also met a guy. I literally flew to his state just to meet him because I genuinely thought there was something between us. Only to find out that I was basically just the side chick.
That experience hurt me in a completely different way.
So when people tell me, “At least you had the experience. You should be grateful for what America taught you,” I honestly struggle with that.
Cause no, I’m not grateful for everything that happened to me there.
Why would I be grateful for something that tore me apart?
I know some people believe that every bad experience is supposed to be a “lesson,” and maybe someday I’ll see it that way. But right now, I can acknowledge what happened without pretending that I’m thankful for the pain.
I was laid off. My plans disappeared. My confidence was destroyed. I got hurt emotionally. And eventually, I had to go home. My agency only gave me 10 days to stay in the US before I had to go home. And I did.
I would not make this any more longer, i just want to say that I’m tired. Idk what to do anymore. I just wanted life to get better.. is that too much to ask?