This Wasn't Supposed to Be for Someone Like Me

I had a dream the other night that my husband moved us to Kentucky. 

The house was huge—so much more space than we have currently—but I spent the entire dream crying. I didn’t know what to do with a place like that. I kept thinking: We just finished finding the vibe of our mid-century home- the one we’ve been renovating for five years! I finally have friends here! Now I’m starting over? In Kentucky? No one is going to visit us in Kentucky! 

When I woke up, all I felt was gratitude. Gratitude for our small, cozy ranch. For our little bit of land. For our tiny bedrooms, filled with toys and laundry and love. 

We moved to Dayton with six dollars. Six. We crashed with friends until we could find our footing. Back then, the idea of owning a home was laughable. But here we are. God knew what He was doing when He upended our lives, our plans, even our marriage. With lots of grace, help, and hard work we’ve built something stable and beautiful out of what felt like chaos. 

We’re not wealthy in the traditional sense. We can’t travel on a whim or retire tomorrow, but I don’t worry about paying the electric bill anymore. That’s a kind of wealth that I don’t take for granted. 

So, About That Italy Brochure… 

Finances are a big part of why it’s taken me so long to finish my bachelor’s degree. The other part is motherhood. I wanted to be there—to be present—for my kids when they were small. Now that they’re a bit older, I’ve gone back to school to finish what I started. 

This past fall, in one of my first classes back, my professor handed me a pamphlet about a study abroad trip to Italy. I looked at it and thought, I wish I was at a place in life where I could go do that. 

But something about it stuck with me. 

I started asking questions. How do students afford trips like this? Are there any scholarships? What would childcare look like if I somehow made this work? Could I divide the 20 days between my husband and family? 

I wasn’t sure what I was even hoping for. But I couldn’t let it go. 

One night, I brought it up to my husband, nervous and already expecting him to say somethine like, "yeah. That probably wouldn't work." But instead, he just asked: 

 “Why wouldn’t you go?” 

 I'm sure I laughed nervously and said something like, “What!? Are you serious?” 

 “It’s a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity,” he said. “Why wouldn’t you do it?” 

I can’t explain how much that meant to me. 

Even with his support, I made a promise to myself: If I was going to go, I’d find a way to pay for it all.  I applied for every scholarship I could get my hands on. I wrote essays. I asked friends for letters of recommendation. And I got every single scholarship I applied for. 

Enter: The Gilman Scholarship 

The biggest one—the reason this blog exists—is the Benjamin A. Gilman International Scholarship. This scholarship specifically supports students like me: Pell Grant recipients, students who’ve faced financial hardship but still dream of studying abroad. 

As part of accepting the Gilman, I agreed to complete a follow-on service project. This blog is that project. My hope is that it not only documents my journey to and through Italy, but that it also encourages others—especially students who think study abroad isn’t for them—to reconsider. 

Because here’s the truth: without scholarships like this, I never could have made this happen. There are so many moments where it would’ve been easier to throw up my hands and say, “This is just not meant for me.” But with support, stubbornness, tenacity, and a little bit of grace, the impossible started to become possible. 

What If You're Thinking, "That Could Never Be Me?" 

I still struggle with anxiety rooted in a scarcity mindset. Years of financial insecurity does not just vanish overnight. And I still get pulled into that all-or-nothing thinking, where everything feels like a trap or a test.

But the older I get, the better I’ve become at noticing those patterns—and then challenging them. 

Here’s what I want to offer: a different way to think about what feels impossible. Maybe it’s not impossible. Maybe you’re just stuck in the mindset that says you’re not allowed to have big dreams.  

That was me. 

Now? I’m going to Italy. As a mom. As a student. As someone who once had only six dollars and was pregnant and sleeping on their friend’s living room floor. 

Let’s Be Real 

Yes, it’s hard. Yes, you’ll have to write more essays than you ever wanted to. Yes, you might have to juggle kids and work and life and wonder if you’re insane. But it’s worth it. 

So, if you're holding yourself back because you think you’re too old, too broke, too busy, too anything—this is your sign to stop. 

You belong in the room. Or in the classroom. Or in the streets of Florence with gelato in your hand. 

There’s more ahead—more about how this all came together, what it’s like walking the cobblestone streets of Italy as a student and a mom, and everything I’ve learned along the way, including scholarship tips! I hope you’ll join me.  

Sincerely, 

Rebekah O.