Moving from Pakistan to Germany sounded glamorous when I first got my student visa. Everyone back home imagined sleek campuses, futuristic labs, and a life that looked like a postcard. The reality? A mix of breathtaking, confusing, lonely, and unexpectedly beautiful moments that are slowly shaping who I’m becoming.

My first struggle wasn’t studies—it was the supermarket. I once spent 20 minutes trying to translate the difference between two types of milk, only to walk out with yogurt. Everything felt foreign: the silence on public transport, the punctuality, the cold weather that cut through my jacket like it had a personal vendetta.

University life here is a different beast. Professors expect independence; no one reminds you of deadlines; group work actually means work. But there’s something liberating about it too. I’ve started thinking more critically, questioning more, and discovering how much learning can happen outside classrooms—through culture, conversations, and mistakes.

The loneliness hit hardest in the first few months. No chai stalls, no street noise, no random uncles giving unsolicited advice. Just long evenings, quiet rooms, and the occasional homesickness that arrives unannounced. But slowly, Germany gave back—through international friends who understood the same struggle, late-night study sessions, and the warmth of desi food cooked in shared kitchens.

One of my favorite rituals now is biking through the city early in the morning. The streets are crisp, clean, and calm in a way that feels therapeutic. It’s where I found space to think, to breathe, to accept that growth often requires discomfort.

Being a Pakistani student in Germany isn’t easy—but it’s rewarding. Every challenge teaches me resilience; every success feels earned. I still miss home deeply, but I’m also learning to build a new version of home here—one halal shop at a time.

If there’s one thing this journey has taught me, it’s this: you don’t just study abroad—you grow abroad.