Ashamed to be Homesick
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To be completely honest, I am writing this blog because I think about a Culver’s ButterBurger at least once a day, if not twice. Bacon, extremely yellow American cheese, slathered in ketchup? Perfect lunch paired with fries. But there is a deeper meaning to the ButterBurgers, besides how fresh and delicious they are. It’s in the missing of the common foods you once had often, but now you can’t find them anywhere. An awful, stomach-churning illness referred to as homesickness.
I remember watching Instagram Reels about going abroad and how you can feel bad for being away from home and how isolating it can feel. The articles I read said that it wouldn’t always be easy, and sure, learning Italian isn’t easy at all, and we haven’t even gotten into the past tense. But I didn’t expect to feel such a range of emotions.
Some days are great! I skip (and try not to fall) down the steep slope to Katie, Sophia (Italian roommate), and my gorgeous apartment overlooking the valley. Classes were great, I am enjoying poetry for the first time in my life, and we got to explore the Crypt of the Duomo here in Siena. My friends and I are creating plans to hang out later this week, and they are one of the best parts of living here. The 4th graders I help teach at the school gave me hugs after class. I have a steak waiting to be cooked in the freezer! Life is pretty awesome.
Other days are so-so. Didn’t sleep great because, man, church bells love to ring at the earliest of times, and getting up earlier than 7:30 am is a crime. Some days, classes are kind of boring, dreary weather, not much happens. And those days are fine! Not every day is going to be great, but there are some better moments to remember from those days.
Then there are the days that absolutely suck. I’m not going to sugarcoat them in the slightest. I was craving a warm, chocolate chip cookie that I used to make all the time at home, and because ingredients don’t magically appear in the cabinet anymore, I have to buy them myself. So there I was, in the local Conad City, running around for 40 minutes (not an exaggeration) trying to find zucchero (sugar). Asked two different workers who only pointed in a general direction, and I literally broke down crying in the baking aisle.
Guess where the sugar was? By the meat section. Where else would it be?
Another time, I sat there on the couch after a particularly bad day (dealing with doctors from home with this time change is awful) and started thinking. I really miss my home. I miss the comfort of knowing where things are in the grocery store. I miss the accessibility of things. I miss being able to communicate my ideas thoroughly to others without having to think so hard about each Italian word I am saying and whether it is the right conjugation of the verb. I miss opening the fridge and having more than a piece of cheese and a lemon on my shelf. I miss my family.
These kinds of thoughts really suck to think about. Because why am I sitting on the couch moping? I am in Italy, for crying out loud. I should be happy, running around on adventures all the time and meeting all sorts of people. It makes me feel bad to not always be happy. I feel bad complaining about my life and everything I miss. But you can’t stop these feelings, the homesickness. No matter if you are in Italy, 4,800 miles from home, college three hours from home, or Timbuktu, you are going to miss those simple moments and comforts. It is just a part of life and growing up.
Growing up isn’t fun. Something we’ve all been told time and time again, and it is true in ways you really don’t expect. Homesickness is one of them… taxes being another. But you just need to have reminders, whether from people you love or yourself, that it is okay to feel like this. It is okay to be sad, frustrated, and blah sometimes. Being sad allows you to reflect on what you are grateful for. Loved ones, fun memories, being able to exist in this moment.
Erri de Luca, an Italian novelist and poet, once said, “When you get homesick, it’s not something missing, it’s something present, a visit. People and places from far away arrive and keep you company for a while.” So, when they arrive to stay with me in my memories, I can feel those people and places in me. I feel my love for them and how they’ve affected my life. In the end, homesickness isn’t a sign of weakness, but a reminder of how deeply we love the places and people we leave behind, turning our sadness into gratitude for life itself.
Writer’s Bio
Hailey Francom is a first-semester student at Hope College. She’s in the Hope in Tuscany first-semester-study-abroad program in Siena, Italy. A Creative writing and Communication double Major, she also loves photography. This is her second column for the Hope in Tuscany blog.
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