Home & Homesickness

In all my years of travel, I've never really ever been homesick. Not when I was studying abroad in Germany, working in China, living here in England, or on holiday everywhere else I've been. I think the closest I've ever gotten to being homesick was in Germany, but it was easily cured by going to T.G.I.Fridays in Berlin and eating the biggest burger this side of the Atlantic in air conditioning with ice in my Coke.

I have spent multiple nights with friends is each country I've lived in giving them hugs when they've become homesick, missing their families and just wanting to go back to their home countries. I've never really felt that way myself. I mean, of course I miss my family and friends back in the States, my walls are literally covered with pictures of them, but I love where I am, and for me it has always been enough just to chat with them online or send an e-mail to them every now and then. I've wondered why it always seemed easier for me, wondering if it's because I don't Skype with them on a daily basis like so many other and therefore don't have that constant reminder, or if it's because I just adapt really well, but I really don't know. So last night it surprised me that, after a fun but really hard day, I was walking through the dark city streets of Leeds when it hit me. I wanted to be home. Right now. I wanted to go home. I wanted to be where things were familiar and known. Where I could forget about my problems and be comforted.

I trudged my way to my building as the waves of emotion washed over me, trying not to cry. The mantra of 'I want to be home, I want to be home' kept replaying in my head. I got to my flat, turned the key, and suddenly the mantra stopped, and all of my pain fell away. I paused in surprise, looking around my little room. What had happened? I stood there in my doorway for a long moment, keys in hand, when I realised something.

I was home. I had assumed when those feelings had come over me that I was wanting to return to America, when in reality I just wanted to go home after a hard day. At some point, sometime during this year, this little flat has become my home. I had realised this months ago, how I was beginning to consider Leeds my home, but I had yet to be faced with such a hard day here in England that made me see how much of a home it really has become. I curled up into bed and felt the comfort of home all around me, all of my problems melting away in its warmth.

I know the Peace Corps will be completely different from everything else I've done, and I know, some day, probably a lot of days, will be hard. I'm going to feel the exact same way there as I did last night, wanting to go home to get away from all the hardships of a bad day. Maybe at the beginning I'll long for America or maybe I'll even long for my little flat here in England which has become my home. But I know that at some point, sometime during the years, whatever country I'm in will become home. My flat there will be my home, the place where comfort is, where things are familiar and known, where problems melt away.

I guess I still haven't ever really felt homesickness, not as most people define it. But this experience has made me wonder if I even have a home, a physical place with those emotional attachments, in America to miss anymore. Yes, there's the place Super Dad lives, but it's not the place I grew up in since he's moved recently, and I have no attachment to my hometown. I guess, for me at least, home is where I am. I'm not sure why this is, why I don't long for America like so many of my friends, but I guess it's all I need.