No Photos, Just Feelings: A Tale of Self-Discovery Abroad in Zurich

We're gonna start with the "Guardian Angel" at the Zurich Station because... well, I needed her.

I was alone in a foreign city.

On this trip, I didn't take many pictures because I was mainly focused on escaping my sadness. I was grappling with emotional pain that resurfaced following an incident involving a relative who accompanied me on this vacation. The re-emergence of childhood trauma can be unpredictable, triggered by something as simple as a single glance, a spoken word, or a particular gesture, and BOOM! I am that little girl again. Small. Unseen. Anxious. That is precisely what happened while I was abroad. A single instant shattered my heart, prompting me to go to old habits of distancing myself from the people I was with.

So, I lost myself in trains, buses, and the labyrinthine corridors that demanded my full attention. The cobblestone streets of Zurich didn't care about my mood nor the shoes I wore, even though when I looked cute in my jean jumpsuit. Nonetheless, even under gloomy skies, Zurich offered its charm at every turn.

You know the worst kind of alone? Being alone when you're surrounded by people. Familiar people! My thoughts swung like a drunk bear on a tightrope, wild, panicked, slamming between three desperate urges:

• Escape: to run away from this situation. Hey, let's get distracted so we don't have to feel this hole.

• Liberation: to embrace the joy that I seek. I'll just imagine a better scenario than where I am and stay there.

• Daring: to scream and let out the all-consuming hurt I was feeling. But I may end up loosing those I was travelling with.

I picked option A, escape. Sigh.

But with hindsight, I know daring might have been braver. Instead, I held onto whatever comfort I could. I sought refuge in Zurich's stunning scenery and the hospitality and kindness of the Swiss. It’s easy to lose yourself when you’re surrounded by beautiful people.

One day I took an Uber from the Airbnb to downtown. The Uber driver, who mainly spoke German, was very engaging and upbeat. He shared details about his interests like his favorite basketball player and his trips to visit his family in Bosnia. Although I was smiling and nodding, I didn't underand most of what he was saying. I admired his enthusiasm and willingness to open up about his life, even though I felt emotionally detached. The only thing that came through clearly was his repeated, heartfelt compliment: calling me a "beautiful lady" with such delight, always meeting my eyes in the rearview mirror. That gaze brought a smile to my face. Maybe he did sense my melancholy after all...

During this trip, I realized that when sadness strikes, I instinctively retreat into old, familiar defenses. Big sigh... It’s a coping mechanism I picked up in childhood. As an adult, it doesn’t translate to others as “I need help. Please nurture me”. Instead, it comes across as “she’s rude. I don’t like being around her”, which intensifies the emotional spiral. Self-discovery abroad was not part of the itinerary. I felt fragile, yes. Isolated, yes. But Zurich gifted me clarity, small moments of grace, and a very expensive mirror as a souvenir.

Healing through travel isn’t about where you go. It’s about what you bring back inside your heart. Zurich, we have to meet again, this time, when I'm well...

Organ in Fraumünster Church

FIN