Lattes, London, and Learning to Embrace Change
As a part of my Mejo 577: The branding of me class here at the Hussman School of Journalism and media, professor gary kayye has challenged us to write blog posts every week. This week, we were told to write about whatever we felt inspireD us. Keep reading to see how iced coffee changed my life. I have always wanted to write blog posts, so thank you gary for pushing us to do these assignments each week. I look forward to doing this the rest of the semester and beyond!
The year was 2016. The air was crisp as my sister and I sped down familiar roads in our little red car, the sun dipping just enough to cast that golden afternoon glow. We were on a mission, a simple one—an afternoon pick-me-up. “Let’s go to Dunkin’ Donuts,” my sister suggested. At the time, I didn’t really know much about Dunkin’, but I trusted her judgment.
This is where I met my first iced vanilla latte.
As I took that initial sip, expecting some life-altering epiphany or at least a rush of joy, I was hit with disappointment. My face crinkled in displeasure, the flavor not matching the hype. From that day, I swore off coffee, certain it wasn’t for me. Little did I know, coffee had other plans.
Fast forward to 2019—New York City at Christmastime. The air was cool, the kind of cold that nips at your cheeks just enough to make you feel alive. My family and I were exploring the city, tired from a long bus ride, and suddenly, I felt something I’d never experienced before: the craving for caffeine. We ducked into a cozy coffee shop, and this time, something shifted. A hot latte in hand, strolling through the bustling streets of Manhattan, it clicked. There was a rhythm to it—the city, the coffee, the energy of people. I finally understood the allure.
Then came the summer after my sophomore year, and with it, an office job. Every day I’d wake up, head to work, and spend eight hours in a small, stuffy office. The monotony was draining. I felt like a hollow version of myself, mentally burned out, aching for something more. I spent days curled up in bed, frustration and uncertainty weighing me down. Why wasn’t this the life I had imagined? Where was the fulfillment?
In that haze of confusion, I knew I needed change—something drastic, something new. That’s when I stumbled upon a study abroad program in London. The thought of it tugged at me, a gentle nudge from somewhere deep within. I could feel the pull of the city before I even stepped foot there. And so, it was decided: London would be my fresh start.
My parents joined me as we ventured through the UK, the landscapes and cities as enchanting as I’d dreamed. But as their trip neared its end and my solo adventure was just beginning, panic set in. I had never lived alone in a foreign city, let alone one as vast as London. What if this wasn’t what I was supposed to do? What if I failed?
But London had a way of grounding me, and so did the simple ritual I found each morning: an iced latte. There was a coffee shop near my flat, the kind of place that feels like a self-sanctuary. And in a city where ice is a rare commodity, this shop never let me down. Each morning and afternoon, I’d order the same thing, savoring the comfort in the consistency of that cool drink as I navigated unfamiliar streets and challenges.
Weeks went by. The classes were tough, and while I made friends from around the world, my mind often drifted back home. Were my friends and family okay without me? Did they miss me as much as I missed them? The time difference didn’t make things easier, and anxiety ebbed and flowed. Was I making the right choices? Was London really where I was meant to be?
And yet, every morning, like clockwork, the coffee was there.
Each day as I commuted to class, latte in hand, I couldn’t help but think back to that moment in New York. Something about it—about the caffeine, the city, the sense of purpose—made me feel like maybe, just maybe, I was on the right path.
Over time, I found ways to ground myself. Yoga, meditation, journaling, and yes, coffee. London became not just a place of study, but a place of self-discovery. I learned to cope with being thousands of miles away from the people I loved, with only my inner strength—and an occasional iced latte—to guide me.
Change has always terrified me, but London taught me to embrace it. It’s constant, after all, and resisting it only makes life harder. So now, I let change come and go. I try new things—a haircut, a different workout, and yes, new flavors of coffee. And I’ve realized that sometimes, the smallest things can lead to the most profound shifts.
So, thank you, London, for your endless cups of iced lattes and for showing me that comfort can come from the unexpected. I’ll never forget how damn good that latte tasted after a morning on the Underground, a reminder that sometimes, all we need is a little caffeine and a lot of courage.
