The Truth about Coming Home

What no one warns you about when you depart for your exchange is how difficult coming home will be. Obviously this feeling is different for everyone; some may find that, at the end of their exchange period, they are ready to come back. Some may want to come back sooner and some may never want to leave. I was the latter.

During all of the preparation for my exchange year, so many people told me that I will likely get homesick, and that even if I find it really hard in the first few weeks, to stick it out and give it a chance. I knew there was a slight possibility that I would end up disliking my year abroad, and missing home.

In actuality, I found the return to the UK much harder to deal with. During my year abroad, I rarely felt homesick, which I think was helped by the fact that for me, the culture shock wasn’t too big (Likely due to my studies). As soon as I arrived, I felt a mix of joy, disbelief and anxiety, but honestly, the overriding feeling was that this place was right. It was exactly where I felt I belonged, where my heart felt at ease. And I will admit, I felt a little guilty for that. The fact that I had been in this new place for less than a month and already felt so at ease and at home was something I tried not to think too deeply about. The year was filled with new experiences, opportunities, incredible people and places, and I didn’t hesitate to dive into my new life head first. My year abroad was so perfect for me that my return was incredibly difficult.

Upon my return to the UK, I expected things to have changed only enough that I had grown as a person, but could still slide back to normality with relative ease. I was waiting for the comfort of everything I had known before. What I didn’t expect, however, was to feel like a stranger in my own life.

The Shock of the Ordinary

Home looks exactly the same. Maybe a little older, a new shop here, a new variety of crops in the field, but on the whole, still the same. That’s the strange part. The routes you used to walk, your bedroom, your routines, all of it waiting for you, almost exactly as you left it. But you’ve changed. For me, returning felt like stepping back into a jigsaw and realising you don’t quite fit. You were once a piece of this puzzle, but you were lifted out and things were added to your shape as you grew and experienced your year abroad. But that meant that you no longer fit where you used to. It felt like everything had shifted slightly, and I was the only one who was out of place. I kept waiting for that feeling of being home to arrive. It took longer than I had anticipated.

The Loneliness no-one names:

People are so glad you’re back. That part is lovely; catching up with your friends, giving your family a hug, seeing old faces with new stories. But the conversations about my year abroad started to feel difficult. On one hand, it was all I wanted to talk about, for fear that I might begin to forget what happened, but on the other, I didn’t want to speak carelessly of my precious memories. It was also so difficult to compress one year of memories into a two hour conversation – all those late night trips to the convenience stores, the people, the food, the person you became – how are you supposed to make that fit over coffee? I started saying things like “it was amazing. The best experience. I can’t wait to go back” because the truth of it is so long, and I’m not sure anyone has the patience for it. I felt I was disappointing people who gave me nothing but love by feeling like this. This is sometimes called reverse culture shock, and it is genuinely quietly devastating in a way you can’t really prepare for. I wasn’t sad exactly. I was just somewhere else, even when I was here.

The Guilt of Grieving Home (the other one)

There’s something almost embarrassing about missing a place you were always meant to leave. I know I was incredibly lucky to go, and coming home is not technically a loss. and yet, I find myself googling nice cafes around my old home, and pulling up photos I’ve now looked at a thousand times. The grief is real, and giving yourself permission to feel it, without the voice that says “you should just be grateful“, turns out to be its own kind of work.

Moving Forwards:

It does get easier, gradually, until you realise that you’re okay now, and you feel like you’re back home again. You start bringing pieces of that year into your life here – the habits, perspectives, possibly the slightly higher tolerance of eating unfamiliar foods. You stop waiting to feel like the old version of yourself, and realise that the person who left and the person who returned are not the same, and that is okay. It’s kind of the whole point.

I will leave you now on a quote I stumbled upon that I think truly reflects the situation:

What a beautiful thing it is, to have a home everywhere you go.

Thanks for reading this far. I hope this post will help you come to terms with your own feelings when you return, or give you comfort that there are other people who have felt like this, and that you will get through it.

Mallie x