NewBeginnings World ' s End AT THE

ABBY MCLEAN

Last spring, I felt stuck between an ending I was struggling to let go of and a beginning I had yet to leap into. I had parted ways with my first love, had called it quits on a best-friendship of nearly a decade, and was thousands of miles away from anyone who really knew me. In short, I was overwhelmingly alone the day I walked into a centuriesold pub on the Royal Mile in Edinburgh, Scotland.

As soon as I stepped into The World’s End, I could tell it was a place where anything was possible. It was bustling with both tourists and locals, new connections being made between strangers over a pint under a stainedglass bar. On my first visit, I met an older couple on a retirement trip celebrating their decades-long careers in global development. I found myself curiously asking questions, and they responded with fond memories and stories of working in India and Nepal and all the communities they had connected with along the way. A few weeks later, I returned and met a sweet Irish couple. We talked about all sorts; their son, my exchange, climate change, and exploring the world while you can. The stories I heard during these first two visits reminded me of why I moved abroad in the first place: to connect with people I never could have met at home. More importantly, it reminded me that this goal was only going to be achieved through asking questions and listening to those around me. So I leaned into curiosity.

On Mother’s Day, I met a group of Canadian women around my mom’s age who were treating themselves to a trip to Italy and Scotland. I had planned to visit Italy in the coming weeks, so they shared their wisdom and recommendations. By the end of an hour, these strangers had become my own mothers. They taught me that even when you’re alone across the world, there will always be people who want to support you.

Returning home to Canada made me realize that my visits to The World’s End had marked a new beginning for me. In a time of loneliness, people of vastly different ages and backgrounds shared with me the stories of their lives with a unique passion — a passion that made me recognize that everyone, including myself, has a writer within. The connections I made with strangers in that pub turned the scary uncertainty of my situation into its own story; I had an adventure before me that was waiting to sweep me away if I only let it. And so my inner storyteller was reborn, coaxed out of its shell by the generosity of strangers.

The gratitude of all those strangers for both the mountains and valleys of their lives alike helped me embrace the change into what has turned out to be an exhilarating new stage of my life. I left the pub knowing for certain that life is full of beginnings and endings, and that people want to listen to and support each other — all you have to do is be brave enough to embrace curiosity.

Content Warning

This article discusses the effects of pregnancy loss and abortion.