When I made the decision to move to Madrid and teach English, every single person, without fail, asked me “Do you speak Spanish?” Three weeks in and my answer is still the same: “Un poco.” I chose not to let the language barrier hinder me from making this move, however, what I didn’t factor in is every single grocery store, convenience store, etc. having none of the products that I’m used to.

My first trip to the supermercado was overwhelming. I spent a solid 45 minutes staring at the different aisles, desperately trying to find a familiar product. I felt a strange sense of relief upon seeing the Hellmann’s mayonnaise and the Heinz ketchup. I thought back longingly to when I grocery shopped at Market Basket and was able to read all the products without using Google Translate. I left with the necessities: Avocado, eggs, and vino.

There’s a small grocery store in the building right next to my apartment, which is super convenient, but it doesn’t have much variety. So the other day I went to the larger supermarket that my roommate suggested (still only about 800 feet away from me), to look for laundry detergent and body wash. This proved to be even more difficult than the grocery shopping. You know how in the U.S. there are multiple brands for just one item? It’s like that here too. Only the brands are all in Spanish. I somehow avoided buying bleach instead of detergent, and did not make the honest mistake that my friend made of buying lotion that turned out to actually be body wash.

I’ve had major social anxiety for the past several years. Before I left, my therapist confirmed that I had Generalized Anxiety Disorder–no surprise to me! Here in Spain, you would think my anxiety would be doubled given that everywhere I go I have to mentally rehearse what I want to say in Spanish, and be prepared to be spoken to in Spanish. Surprisingly, it’s not. There are still things that I have to do, like going to the grocery store, ordering at restaurants, or making photocopies (which I did yesterday, completely in Spanish), just as I would back home. I can’t be embarrassed to speak Spanish, no matter how clumsily it sounds to me, and so I take every mistake as an opportunity to have learned something. Every social situation has been different and taught me something that I wouldn’t have learned had I stayed in my bubble.

I feel mentally stretched in more ways than I even thought possible. The confidence that comes with navigating the metro, the people, the grocery stores, the cafes, and the government appointments, is unreal. Every time I speak even one sentence in Spanish correctly, I get a little high, and when I mess up, I laugh. So, goodbye comfort zone; I don’t think I’ll ever be able to go back to you now.