The Price of Being Far Away

The distance between the U.S. and Australia didn’t hit me until I completed 20 hours of flight time and a 13 hour layover at LAX. Traveling from Florida, I picked Sydney as my study-abroad destination because I wanted to push the boundaries of my comfort and go somewhere so far from home that I had to physically and mentally completely readjust what I was used to. Before this trip, my spring semester at school wasn’t the smoothest, with each obstacle seeming larger than the last. My emotions were constantly in a state of whiplash, going from extreme happiness to spiraling anxiety that seemed to get worse the more I pushed back my feelings. At the time, I focused energy on aspects of my life devoid of joy, with my Sydney trip acting as the light at the end of the tunnel. Going abroad has changed my outlook on my academic, professional, and personal life, but it has also brought parts of myself to the surface that I was afraid to face…

Homesickness is painful, but it doesn’t last forever. It started small, such as seeing little trinkets or pieces of clothing that reminded me of my friends back home, but then the phone calls started. There were times when my mom or best friend would call, and I’d go to call back but couldn’t. I sometimes avoided traces of home because I thought it would ease the progressing strength of my homesickness, but it didn’t. As I continued to push back my feelings, I became frustrated and alone, not understanding why I felt this way despite enjoying my time in the city with all my new friends. My answer came on the Fourth of July, seeing all my friends back home celebrate; the distance and impact of missing out hit me in full force, and that’s when the homesickness was officially in motion. My mind raced with the phrase, “I want to go home”, while the other part of my brain argued, “No, you love it here!”. How could both be true at the same time? Can they be true? 

Mentally, I felt exhausted. I didn’t know how to express my feelings, and it didn’t seem that anyone else was experiencing the same thoughts, so during an excursion to Manly, my friends and I stumbled upon a gift shop. I bought a simple, seven-dollar journal and wrote down exactly how I felt, when I felt it, and why. Suddenly, the answers I needed poured out of me, and everything around me started to make more sense. It’s okay that I missed home because the longing allowed me to appreciate what I had then, where I am now, and what I could carry into the future. 

I don’t mean to say all this to freak you out on your potential time abroad but to let you know that homesickness is completely normal. It can be painful and exhausting, but it’s important to allow yourself to feel, even if it hurts or seems terrifying. As someone who struggles to vocalize how they feel, journaling has been a relieving alternative because it makes my feelings seem concrete; once they’re written, they’re true, and I needed that confirmation. Your method of dealing with homesickness may look different than mine, such as talking to a friend, talking out loud to yourself in a closed space (I also recommend this option even if it may look and feel ridiculous), taking a walk while listening to comforting music, reading a book, looking at photos that remind you of home, the list goes on and on. What’s important is not how you deal with it, but that you choose to. Your feelings are not embarrassing, and it doesn’t mean you aren’t enjoying yourself. Studying abroad is supposed to be new and unknown, and the uncomfortable bits lead you to learn more about yourself: the good, the bad, and the ugly. 

Also, answer those phone calls from home, you’ll need it.