Please Tell Me You're Okay

It's been such a long time since I've posted; it feels very weird to be on here again. To be honest, there's lots of reasons I stopped writing and a few reasons I'm starting again, but the most important is this: I try to be a person who speaks when I have something to say and doesn't speak when I don't.

I started this blog the first time I moved away from the US, and since then, I generally found that when I lived overseas, I had things to say. Interesting things, I thought, and I hope some of you felt the same.

This year, I'm living overseas again, this time for education in London. It's a very different experience than any of my other international trips, but more on that another day.

I resurrected this blog today in part because a few days ago, there was a "terror-related" attack here in London. A man attacked others with a knife, and two people lost their lives too soon. I'm betting you already know this, so I won't cover more details, because that's not the point of this post anyway.

I heard about the attack when I got a text from a family member back in the US asking if I was okay. One text, then another, then more. Messages from worried family and friends, all with the same request: please tell me you're okay.

It was quick and easy to send back reassuring messages, but I couldn't stop myself from rolling my eyes a bit. What an overreaction. In a city of eight and a half million people, what were the odds that we were involved in the attack?

But then, on my way home, I started thinking about all those messages. About family and friends and people I count as friends but hadn't talked to in a few weeks or months, all of them waking up and seeing London on the news and thinking of us. Statistically likely or not, all of them worrying that something had happened to us.

It's pretty amazing to have that many people think about you, worry about you, love you that much. In many ways, those texts, and the outpouring of support across London for those involved in the attack, epitomize the best of humanity. We worry about each other, because we love each other, even from far away.

I'm very thankful to have so many people who love me enough to worry about me and to text me. It's a good reminder that it never hurts to check on someone - after a terrorist attack, after a busy week or semester or year, or maybe just because. These moments make us feel connected, and our world can always use a bit more of that.