A Moment of Existentialism

I’ve been feeling extremely homesick lately. This is normal to most people, missing home and longing to see friends and family again is something almost everyone will experience when they’re away from home for any long period of time. But I never thought I would. What do we do when something happens that completely questions how you viewed the world, yourself or your life?

From when I was about 16 I’ve wanted nothing more than to travel the world. To see new places, meet new people and experience what other countries have to offer. The thought of being on the road nonstop was thrilling and whilst yes it was at times daunting too, I always knew that I would figure it out. When I was 19 I went to Asia for 2 months, volunteering with an organisation in three different countries and it was the most rewarding and incredible experience I’d ever had – actually still have ever had to this day. Whilst I was there I made friends with some Aussies and so decided that was where I’d save up for next.

Three years later and here I am, with the option of staying for three years and the potential to stay even longer, yet I’m severely missing home not even one year in.

Knowing that I wanted to continuously travel the world, I always thought that I would never miss home like this. I thought I would be fine with only visiting every once in a long while and that FaceTime and postcards would be enough to keep me going in between. I thought I’d be so full of wonder with each new place I explored that I would never stop long enough to miss home. That’s a naive expectation, I know, but this is truly how I’ve always believed my life would go. That one day I would leave my hometown and not look back.

The internet doesn’t help. The internet paints the picture that if you don’t leave your hometown you’re stunting your growth and missing out. It glorifies long term travel and leaves out all the difficult feelings that you’ll have never experienced before – let alone how to deal with them. All those videos on TikTok and Instagram of the beautiful national parks and nights spent camping by the beach, they’re not how you grow from travelling anyways. They’re painting the wrong picture.

It’s taken me all week to figure out that this uncomfortable feeling is homesickness. It’s partly missing my friends birthday, partly craving familiarity, (partly because I’m on my period) and partly because now that we’ve decided we’re leaving Sydney in March it makes me feel a little less at home here. I feel lost.

I wrote a whole essay on why home is not a place and how you should learn to notice the new home that’s flourishing around you – you’d think I’d know how to get around homesickness. As it turns out I don’t. All I can think about is how it’s going to feel being back in my hometown, seeing everyone I love again for the first time, going to my favourite coffee shop, walking down high streets that I’ve known my whole life. It’s making it so hard to stay present and to enjoy the fact that I’m living in Sydney right now, on quite literally the other side of the world.

10 months ago I was consumed with the excitement of coming to Australia, I was looking forward to it more than anything. It feels like I’m cheating myself out of the time I have left here because I’m so caught up in thoughts of going home. It’s making me question what my life looks like now that I know I don’t want to be away from my hometown for that long. It’s making me question my own ability to step out of my comfort zone – something I always thought was a good thing to do is now feeling like it’s too difficult. With this in mind as well as the built up stigma around returning to your hometown, I feel like I’m failing.

But who dictates my comfort zone? And how likely is it really that my idea of my comfort zone at 16 will really be the same 5, 10, 20 years down the line?

I think this feeling will pass and that it’s more nourishing than it feels. I’ve absorbed the belief that returning home is a negative thing but it doesn’t have to be. First of all, I get to see the people I love and how can that ever be a bad thing? Secondly, it’s true when they say that distance brings fondness. It’s a good thing to have something to miss, something to come back to. It’s like the saying “money can’t buy happiness” – you could buy everything you’ve ever wanted but then what is left to hope for?

Desire is what drives us, it’s what leads us to hope for things and work for things and act in certain ways. Imagine having no desire. No desire to go anywhere or see anyone or do anything. Life would be dire and eventually not worth living. So, having something to miss is a blessing in disguise.

As for the expectation that a life of endless travel is the one for me, I was slowly beginning to realise how I crave the little comforts anyways. I’ve recently taken to baking and that would be hard to do from the back of my car, or in a tiny van oven or in a hostel kitchen. I like to have a space that is decorated as my own, with art I picked out hanging from the walls and plants by the window that I’m desperately trying to keep alive. I like having my clothes organised into drawers rather than all muddled up in a bag in the corner. I like having a proper bookshelf. I like my own space.

*even while writing this I’m realising what an incredible job I’ve done making all these things happen for myself since I moved here and it’s making me smile*

I know that as soon as I go back to my little, old hometown, everything there will be exactly the same. It’ll actually probably be as if I never left and after the excitement of being back wears off I’ll be missing Australia just as much. However, what has changed, is me. When I go, I’ll be going back with strong intentions to build the life I want. I’ll be going back with the perspective that 3 hours on a train is not too far for a day trip and that sandy beaches are absolutely worth driving a couple hours for. I’ll be going back having learnt an invaluable amount about working in the hospitality industry. But most importantly I’ll be going back knowing that it’s ok for me to be there. It’s ok to have changed the way I want to travel. It’s ok to want a comfortable, familiar place because it’s human nature after all.