I have eaten the same breakfast every day for nine years. Whole wheat toast with peanut butter, fruit, and a glass of milk. If I’m feeling wild, I’ll trade whole wheat for multigrain, maybe use almond butter instead of peanut, but the structure stays the same. I’ve tried to switch it up with oatmeal, eggs, or cereal, but my breakfast of choice sustains and comforts me too much to risk the change.
During the next year, I will travel to India, Tanzania, Italy and Spain on two study abroad programs. I don’t know what to expect, but I will definitely not be eating toast for breakfast. I’m going to miss the crunch of seeded bread, the creamy peanut butter, apples and grapes. I’m going to miss waking up at the same time every day, trundling to my internship, and walking home after a swim. My life right now is a piece of toast; sometimes messy, but structured, and beautiful in its simplicity. My life for the next year will be chapati and dosa, churros y chocolate, a cacophony of new flavors and experiences.
Am I ready? Probably not. Am I scared? Most definitely. But it’s time to stop eating toast.