I took a walk the other day. Up the narrow, cobbled streets of Florence, past the medieval Forte Belvedere and under the arches that covered the way. Following the walls, which divided the city from the country, I strolled along admiring the smattering of crimson ivy, which snaked across the concrete and provided a stark contrast to the gray of the stone. This was the same walk that Galileo took every day for the last 15 years of his life.

I walked along these walls for awhile until I came upon a clearing. In the distance stood the towers of Galileo’s observatory. Looking out across the landscape I thought of the sacrifices Galileo made throughout his life. The risks he took. The price he paid. But in thinking about those, I couldn’t ignore his accomplishments.

Standing there against a wall I know he must have glanced upon at least once or twice, I couldn’t help but pause to reflect upon the chance I took when I came to Florence three months ago.

When I first decided to study abroad in Florence, Italy for a semester, I put everything on hold. In search of something more, I left behind my comfortable, predictable life full of loving friends and family and embarked on a journey halfway across the world to a country I had only seen pictures of, with 14 other people I didn’t know.

At that time I needed respite from the monotony of my daily existence, which seemed to me like a scratched CD, skipping over and over again replaying the same verses. It was time to hit the stop button and change my tune.

The day that my parents dropped me off at the Des Moines International Airport and wished me goodbye I was filled with conflicting emotions. Part of me was bursting at the seams with excitement, eagerly anticipating the adventure that lay ahead of me. But another part of me was scared to death. Watching my parents walk away, I remember struggling to blink back tears as doubts began to flood my mind.

Had I made the right decision? Would I be strong enough to handle three months on my own? Would I find the part of myself that I was traveling thousands of miles in search of?

Standing there, overlooking the peaceful valley below and admiring the snowcapped mountains on the horizon, only then did the answers to these questions seem truly certain.

Living in Florence for the past three months has taught me more about myself and about life than I ever thought possible. By immersing myself in a culture foreign to my own, I have been able to step outside my comfort zone and find out exactly what I am made of.

Through all of the trials and tribulations that stemmed from language barriers and cultural differences I have gained a greater sense of myself and what I am capable of. I have not only become a more well-rounded person, but I have also adopted a greater sense of independence. I know what I want and I am not afraid to go get it.

Through my studies overseas I have developed an even greater thirst for knowledge. Studying scholars like Galileo, Machiavelli and Michelangelo has whet my appetite to expand my mind to encompass what these men have contributed to modern society.

By broadening my horizons I have discovered the things in life that I truly value. And I have come to the realization that there is so much in this world to discover that to limit yourself because of fear of the unknown is to do a great injustice to yourself.

Possibilities lie in every endeavor and the benefits of taking a chance are endless.

In four short days I will say goodbye to the town that has become my home away from home. And when I think of leaving I am once again filled with the same conflicting emotions of excitement and fear I felt before I began my journey to Florence. I know I am not the same person I was three months ago. And I know the America I left will not be the one I will come home to. But I, like Galileo, took the road less traveled, and to me that has made all the difference.

Christy Steffen is a senior in journalism and mass communication from Ruthven. She is studying abroad in Florence, Italy for the semester.