Homesickness Doesn’t Mean You’re Not Happy

I remember very clearly the first time I understood how it felt to be homesick.

I was sitting on my little single bed, in a rather empty, large and lofty room, in my new flat in Verona. I think I had probably been there a few weeks, and so would have begun to settle into my new routines and daily life, and so I didn’t expect it at all.
The homesickness.

But sat on that little bed, I was sticking photographs up on the wall, and hearing only Czech being spoken¬†around me in the apartment 90% of the time, and it just hit me like a train. I felt lonely. I had made new friends, sure, and I was definitely having a good time. But that evening, sat alone, in a room with no familiar decor or anything familiar, looking through photos taken with my family, my friends my (then-) boyfriend… it creeped up on me.

And the thing is is that I wasn’t sad. I wasn’t having a bad time. In fact it was the opposite. Every night when we tried a new bar, I was excited to get ready and go out because when you move to a new city, everything is exciting! Learning what types of drink you order pre-midday and those that will merit you a funny look after 6pm… learning which crowds cling to which parts of the city. Everything is new, and it’s like being a baby all over again in terms of you learn everything over again, but this time you get to choose so much of what you do.

Despite all of that, I felt homesick. I don’t remember who I called but I imagine it was my mum or my boyfriend. I don’t remember the conversation or how I was consoled, all I really remember is how I just realised, quite suddenly, that I really felt quite lonely.

With hindsight, I can see why. Moving to a new city/country is freaking amazing. For all the reasons above and for at least 1000 more. But it’s also overwhelming. And I suppose after the hustle and bustle and settling in of the first few weeks died down, I was left feeling a little deflated maybe. The dust had settled and so had the quiet (with Czech in the background).

So naturally, I would turn to someone to talk about it, but I didn’t feel like my friends from home or university would really get it because my Instagram was full of smiles and nights out and new faces, and neither did I feel close enough to those new faces to speak about it with them. Luckily those new faces became some of my best friends.

So there I was, sitting on my bed, I think there was a candle burning, and I was trying to brighten those plain white walls,¬†when I just started to cry. But I was okay – in fact, more than okay. Homesickness doesn’t always mean you’re unhappy, sometimes it means you’re just far from home.

 

Have you experienced homesickness before? When have you felt homesick?

Love, Chloe xx

Twitter: @wanderwomanco

Instagram: @wanderwomanco

 

 

 

2 thoughts on “Homesickness Doesn’t Mean You’re Not Happy

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