Growing up, I had a sense of home. It wasn’t a word I questioned or put much thought into. “Home” was my two-story house on Walnut Lane; it was coming home to my parents, screaming at my sister to get out of the shower, and waking up to my little floof of a dog jumping on my bed.
When you leave for college something very odd happens to the word “home.” It’s not something you’re warned about. It’s not something that’s talked about. It’s not something that’s taught. High school students are conditioned to be fearful of college courses, thinking that academics will be the most challenging part of being a college student. As a result, mental preparation goes into academics, with most incoming freshmen either disregarding or being unaware of all the other challenges college students face.
As a junior, I’ve realized there are so many things about college that no one really talks about. They creep up on you, and for me, hearing the word “home” began to hurt with no warning. Slowly, I had begun to lose my sense of home. After three years of living on a college campus, I realized that I had no idea where home was anymore.
If you look up the official definition of “home,” the dictionary can’t even agree on one definition:
Home (noun):
“one’s place of residence”
“the social unit formed by a family living together”
“a familiar or usual setting”
“place of origin”
For anyone who’s experienced “home dysphoria” (as I like to call it), even in the slightest, this article is going to walk through the initial stages, give advice, and talk about my biggest takeaway.
THE FIRST STAGE
The first time I referred to GCU as “home” my parents looked at me shocked. As soon as the word left my lips, I saw the looks on their faces and immediately stopped talking, equally shocked. Eventually, I began to use the word “home” to describe 2 different places: my childhood house and GCU. I know I’m not the only one who experienced this, and from what I’ve learned, you’ll start to question which place really is home.
EVERYBODY GROWS UP
In case you were wondering, growing up does suck.
Things for me didn’t get super weird until sophomore year. All of my high school friends had established new lives and new friend groups at their colleges. Facetime calls dwindled down, and I found myself going to my roommates for all the hard life stuff instead of reaching for my phone.
My parents moved to Arizona, so I stopped going back to Oregon for summers and holidays, and now I only manage to see my high school friends once a year. To me, this was one of the hardest parts. I went from seeing the same people every day for 12 years to seeing them only once a year. It was like everything I had ever known was ripped from me; I couldn’t figure out where I really belonged. Being “homesick” didn’t refer to one place anymore, and I never really could figure out what it meant when I felt that way. My parents were 30 minutes from GCU, so how could I be homesick? In truth, I think I missed Oregon and my old friends, a feeling that’s never really gone away. The twisted thing about this is that most of these people have moved away, so even if I went back it wouldn’t give me the comfort that I crave.
The truth is that home changes for everyone, and eventually, you start to see everyone staying in their college towns and establishing new lives. I think most people in their 20s start to lose their sense of home and have no idea where they want it to be.
So where is it?
HOME AS A CONCEPT
“place of origin:” It’s that house on Walnut Lane, the apple tree we used to climb, and the McDonald’s I broke my first bone in. The street I grew up on will always carry meaning to me, and that’s okay. I don’t have to let it go.
“one’s place of residence:” It’s GCU, and in the summers, my parents’ house in Peoria.
“the social unit formed by a family living together:” This began as my parents and siblings, but has grown to include my roommates and the community at GCU. It’s all the people and friends I’ve met here, a family that we created.
“a familiar or usual setting:” This is the definition that took me the longest to figure out and the one that hurt the most. GCU is still not a familiar place in comparison to Oregon. What I’ve learned is that no matter where you are, familiar people can always feel like home. There’s a piece of home in three different states: in my best friend who goes to UO, in my siblings who live in LA, in another friend attending Point Loma, and of course, my parents and college friends in Arizona.
It took me a while, but I’ve decided that for me, “home” is in a couple of different places, and that’s ok. “Home” went from being a physical place to a concept that I carry with me every day.