I had never traveled overseas. At age 21, I moved from the US to Germany to be an au pair.

The author (not pictured) took care of two German kids as an au pair, and loved it.

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In 2000, I moved from the US to Germany after taking a job as an au pair. I had never been overseas, and it seemed exciting and new. I traveled around Europe with my family and even picked up some German.

I grew up in a small Texas town and had seen much of the United States. I had even traveled to Canada as a child, but I had never been overseas.

One day, I was chatting with a coworker who spent each summer as a nanny in various European countries. It seemed exciting and different, and I needed that change. My hometown felt stifling, and I knew if I wanted to see the world for an extended period, I’d likely have to work while doing it.

I got the contact information for the London-based agency that pairs young women with families across Europe for a year. In 2000, I took a job as an au pair in Germany.

It was the biggest leap of faith I had ever taken, and I’m glad I did.

I knew how to take care of kids

On the agency’s website, I selected my top four countries, the size of the family I wanted to work for, and my childcare experience. By then, I had been babysitting for almost a decade and knew how to care for babies and young children, thanks to church youth groups and my own large family.

The agency considered my background and, over several more weeks, paired me with families in the Netherlands, Australia, and Germany. After many conversations with the respective parents, I decided to work for a German family with two kids, a 7-year-old boy and a 5-year-old girl. I signed the contract, got my first passport, secured my work visa, bought airline tickets, and planned to start in August 2000.

I didn’t tell my parents

I did all of this without telling my parents, only confiding in my best friend and sister. I had set my mind on an adventure and didn’t want anyone talking me out of it. As my mom often says, “Julie marches to the beat of her own drum, and when she decides something, no one can change it.”

But as the departure date neared, nerves set in. Had I made the right choice? I knew no one in Germany and didn’t speak the language. I took Spanish in high school, not German — what was I thinking?

Language wouldn’t be an issue with the family, though. The children spoke English, and the parents wanted a native English speaker to help with their progress. However, I’d also be responsible for household tasks like shopping, taking the kids to school and other activities, and interacting with other families who may not speak English. Doubts started creeping in.

I packed everything I could bring

I landed at Düsseldorf Airport, tired but wired, dragging along the biggest suitcase you’ve ever seen. Unsure of what to pack for a year abroad, I brought everything, including my favorite books, for comfort. My host mother and her son picked me up, and we drove to what would be my new home in Hagen, Germany.

Entering their neighborhood felt like stepping into a fairytale. The lush lawns and European-style homes were unlike anything I’d seen in Texas. I loved it! But I still wondered if the family would be as lovely as their neighborhood.

It was the experience of a lifetime

The first few weeks were calm as I got to know the family and learned their expectations. I immediately bonded with the son over “The Hobbit,” “Harry Potter,” and his love for “Magnum P.I.,” but the 5-year-old daughter was a tougher challenge.

Living as a full-time caregiver made it feel different from regular babysitting, where I could leave at the end of the night. Here, it was my job from 7 a.m. until bedtime, six days a week. We eventually developed a routine of mutual respect, despite the occasional meltdowns and the very public “you’re not the boss of me” moments.

A few months in, I felt less like a fish out of water. I made friends, danced at discos, sipped cappuccinos in the city square, visited the Cologne Cathedral, and even picked up enough German to communicate with locals. I went to my first sauna and laid in piles of snow in between the schvitzing. I learned to make pflaume kuchen (plum cake), schnitzel, and apple crepes from the grandmothers.

On free weekends, I jumped on the train and traveled to places like Amsterdam, Paris, and Prague. I explored the Rembrandt and Van Gogh museums, spent my 22nd birthday atop the Eiffel Tower, and even argued with a Parisian about Austin being the capital of Texas. He was adamant that it was Dallas.

I joined the family on holiday trips, spending almost three weeks in Tenerife, Spain, and even learned to ski in the Austrian Alps, where the children skied circles around me. But I didn’t care. I was living my best life.

I have no regrets about taking the plunge and stepping out of my comfort zone. It was the perfect decision for me at that time in my life. Now, I encourage my own son and other young adults to do something equally courageous. We only have one life to live, so why not live it to the fullest?