My name is Grace, and for the last six months, my life has felt like a suitcase that won't quite close: I moved to Germany. It was terrifying and exhilarating at the same time – like a bungee jump where the cord is already attached, but you still don't know which way you'll swing. I used to be surrounded by the noisy streets of my old hometown, familiar faces in my favourite cafés, and a language I could speak without thinking. Here, everything is different: the smells, the sounds, the unspoken rules, even the silence sounds German. But I'm learning. Every day I say "Guten Morgen" to the postman, read signs in the supermarket, and try not to panic when I hear those impossibly long compound words. I'm preparing for my studies – medicine has always been my calling – and now I'm memorising anatomical terms in German, feeling like a first-grader learning to read all over again. It's tough, but deep down I have this stubborn belief: I will make it