Leaving everything behind and stepping into a country where everything is different from what you’re used to can be terrifying. The fear of the unknown is real, and it’s the reason many people never step out of their comfort zone. And that makes sense—the unknown can make us feel extremely uncomfortable, and those thoughts can cause us to freak out.

In this blog, I’ll share my honest feelings about my upcoming trip to Africa and how I’m handling the overwhelming emotions that come with it.

Next month, I have a new adventure scheduled: I’ll be volunteering at the Rebuild Hope Foundation in Uganda. It’ll be my first time leaving Europe all by myself.

A few weeks ago, when I was looking for volunteer opportunities, I didn’t plan on leaving Europe. I only had a month to spare and wanted to be home for Christmas, so staying nearby seemed practical. But the options I found in Europe weren’t exciting enough. That’s when I started looking beyond Europe. Pretty quickly, I found a volunteering opportunity at a school in Uganda. At first, I wasn’t sure. Connecting with kids isn’t easy for me—it often makes me feel uncomfortable because it doesn’t come naturally. Plus, I knew I’d experience a massive culture shock. But the place had five stars and 88 glowing reviews from people all over the world who spoke highly of the experience.

There was a little voice inside me that said, “Cecile, just apply. We’ll see what happens.” And after I sent my application, I felt a rush of excitement about the unknown. Not even two hours later, I got a response. I was accepted to volunteer at the foundation!

Suddenly, it didn’t feel like a question anymore. This opportunity seemed like exactly what I had been waiting for. But I told the owner of the foundation that I would get back to him in 24 hours because my biggest concern was whether I could get all the necessary vaccinations in time.

I called my dad, not because I needed permission, but because seeking his approval on big decisions still feels reassuring. To my surprise, he didn’t argue—he simply said it was my decision.

I also called my grandma because she had traveled to Africa before, and I hoped she could give me some perspective. I asked her if she thought I’d enjoy working with kids. Her response was, “Cecile, I can’t answer that for you. I honestly don’t know.” My grandma loves kids—having children was her biggest dream. I’m the opposite. I’ve never really felt the desire to have kids (yet), but maybe this experience will change my perspective. I’m excited to do something meaningful for these kids, to give them love and make their day a little brighter. But I also hope that the love and appreciation I get from them will spark something in me as a person.

I remember when I was about nine years old, I would go to the dollar store with my grandma, and we’d buy school supplies and other things the kids in Africa needed. Then, back at my grandparents’ house, I’d make little care packages for her to take with her on her trips to give to the children. That feeling of contributing to the well-being of others, especially those facing challenges, is something I want to experience again in Uganda.

After these phone calls, I realized this was a decision I had to make for myself. I’ve been craving something outside my comfort zone—an experience that feels bigger than myself, something meaningful where I can make a difference. No one was stopping me, so why wouldn’t I say yes?

Fear kept circling in my mind, but so did the thought of regret—how much I would kick myself later if I let this chance slip by because I was too afraid of stepping into the unknown.

So, the next morning, I confirmed my spot at the Rebuild Hope Foundation and bought my plane tickets that afternoon. Was it an impulsive decision? Definitely. Am I haunted by the overwhelming feeling of whether I’m ready for this? Absolutely—it crosses my mind multiple times a day.

But here’s the thing: it’s all about perspective.

I could focus on the fear, telling myself, “What if I can’t adjust to such a different lifestyle?” Or, I could shift my perspective to, “This is my chance to adapt, grow, and become more flexible in my mindset and approach to life.”

Another example: I could worry, “What if I don’t fit in or can’t understand the culture?” Or, I could change my thinking to, “I’m excited to immerse myself in a new culture, to learn from it, and to find common ground with the people I meet.”

I’m not saying this always works—those feelings of fear are still there, and they’re valid because this is scary. But I remind myself to stay present and not worry about things that haven’t even happened yet.

I can write all this like I’ve figured it out, but I haven’t. I’m just a 21-year-old girl chasing adventures.

Right now, I’m doing everything I can to prepare, especially mentally, for what’s ahead. I started watching the documentary series Savior Complex, which takes place in Uganda, in the exact area where I’ll be. It’s already giving me a glimpse of what to expect. I also connected with a local from Uganda who works in Iceland, thanks to a co-worker. He’s been incredibly helpful, answering all my questions and giving me advice. Additionally, I reached out to several volunteers who had previously worked at the foundation. They shared their experiences and gave me valuable tips, confirming much of what the local had told me. They assured me that they didn’t feel unsafe in the area but advised taking precautions, such as not going out alone in the evening.

One of my biggest concerns was being a lesbian. I worried about what might happen if someone found out—perhaps through my social media. I mentioned to the local that Uganda had recently been in the Dutch news, and not for a positive reason. He advised me not to mention my sexual orientation while I’m there and reassured me that he wasn’t concerned about people finding out. Regarding the news, he said, “I’ve realized that a lot of what’s in the European media about Africa misleads people. Once you’re on the ground, it’s completely different.” Talking to him has been such a relief—it’s taken away a lot of my worries.

Since we’re both in Iceland right now, we’re planning to meet up soon for coffee. I’m looking forward to it. He also mentioned that we could catch up when I’m in Uganda, as he’ll be there on holiday around the same time.

It’s funny how things start falling into place once you make a decision. Everything lines up—you just have to trust the process.

So, what I’m really trying to say is this:

When you’re chasing your dreams and turning them into reality, you’re bound to feel uncomfortable along the way—especially when the dream is big. But that’s how it should be. Achieving something meaningful isn’t meant to be easy, or life wouldn’t feel as rewarding. If you could reach all your goals in a single day, wouldn’t that take away the excitement and challenge?