This isn’t going to be a cliché article about how studying abroad is so amazing and you find yourself and you fall in love with Spanish boys and eat Italian food. I’m going to be honest and admit something nobody ever seems to want to: You will feel homesick when you’re abroad.
For the months and months when I knew I was studying abroad but hadn’t left yet, people told me I would have the time of my life. And while that excited me, it also put pressure on me. A lot of money was being spent. Three months of my life would be spent, and I had to somehow make sure these three months were the best of my life. But I didn’t know where I’d be interning, I hadn’t met the people I’d be living with, and I didn’t know where I’d be living… let’s just say the pressure was on. I had so many questions, and yet there were no questions in the minds of the people who just knew I’d have the best time.
But I want to tell everyone who’s spending this semester abroad two things: 1) You will get homesick. You’re VERY far from home! You’re going to be going through your European or other new routine, and while most days you’ll love it and be amazed by this whole new part of the world, there will be a day where you’re like why do they do things like this? Why do they talk like this? Why am I here? Why. Did. I. Do. This. You get mad and upset and confused and you don’t know how to deal with those emotions, so you just want to go home. But, 2) It’s OK.
I spent this summer in Dublin, and most of my friends (note: they ALL experienced homesickness at some point in the summer!) experienced their home draught after me, but I got it right away. As I sat on the eight-hour flight, I let the best-time-ever pressure build up in me, alongside nerves about having to make friends with strangers I’d never met but would be living with. I got off the plane I hadn’t slept on. I trekked through the airport and found my too-heavy bag. I found a cab. I reached the university I’d be staying at. I got lost. I found my apartment, which was completely empty: I’d arrived first (lucky me). And then I opened my door, threw off the sweater I’d sweat through, and lost it. My sobs were practically screams, and I woke my poor mom up at what was probably 3:00 a.m. given the time difference. I made my mom listen to how scared I was, how unhappy I was, how much dread I had inside, when all she wanted was for me to be safe and having (you guessed it) the best time of my life.
I want to be honest with you (I’ve been brutally honest so far, so why not keep going?): that week didn’t get all that much easier. I didn’t eat for about five days, with the exception of American granola bars because they made me feel a bit more comfortable. I cried on the phone with my mom a lot. But I arrived on a Monday, and by Friday I was ready to go out with the new friends I’d made, and I spent the weekend off the phone.
Now I’m going to get to the corny crap. I had the best summer – not just summer – the best 80-some days of my entire life. Hate that I’m saying that? Well sorry, but it’s true. I will look back on my Dublin days, weekends spent traveling, afternoons and nights at the pubs and the friendships I made fondly for the rest of my life. And I’ve come to think something pretty interesting. I think when people say you really “find yourself,” they may not actually be full of crap. And you know why? Because fighting through my bout of homesickness was one of the hardest things I have ever had to do. I was completely alone in a foreign country with only occasional contact with home, given my need for both Wi-Fi and given the time difference. I did not know a soul. I had never cooked for myself, and yet here I was with an apartment and a need to figure out a foreign public transportation system to find groceries. I had to interview for a job on my third day there. And I had to force myself to smile, make small talk and make friends even though all I wanted to do was board a plane home. I truly “found” that I had strength I wouldn’t have credited myself for before. I found strength, maturity and happiness in myself in Dublin. And frankly, I don’t think it would’ve been the best time ever if I hadn’t discovered all that.
So I’m not trying to bring you down. If you’re not abroad yet or are in the highs of it – experience that! Soak it up, love it, take pictures for Instagram! But when you do hit your point, at whatever point that may be, know that you’re not the only one. You’re not some weirdo who got sent on an amazing trip and squandered it. You’re not a baby or even necessarily a homebody. It’s a perfectly natural reaction to having your senses flooded with different and just wanting a little bit of same. But also know that the homesickness passes. As quickly as it comes on, it goes. And letting yourself experience that fully will actually become a part of what makes the whole experience so special.
Photo Credits: Author’s own