Medicine for Homesickness

Flying east from Philadelphia to Manchester made for the longest day ever. Upon arriving in my new time zone at 10:00 AM, I was exhausted from a sleepless six-hour flight after a full 12-hour day. The jet lag lasted a couple more days and I found myself looking dramatically out of the window of our Air BnB at 1:00 AM at my new city an annoying amount of times. Once my body finally adjusted, it was Freshers Week and I had to force myself to socialize with my fellow teens long after I wished to be in bed.

On the flight over!! All smiles before being kicked in the back for six hours straight

What I have yet to get over, however, is the serious emotional jet lag. I love Manchester, but Philadelphia is the kind of place you can’t help but miss. I miss Wawa and South Street and people who appreciate His Majesty Gritty. Above all, I miss Dunkin’ Donuts. I miss my large iced latte with no sugar and no straw, 32 ounces of satisfaction fresh from the drive-through. While I did travel to Liverpool, where the beautiful “DD” sign nearly brought a tear to my eye, a “large” in the UK is a mere medium by American standards. Still, I saved the plastic cup, washed it, and gave it a place of honor on a shelf in my bedroom, a reminder of what I get to come home to.

For once in my life, I’m dreading Thanksgiving. Though I do intend to host a full American feast on Turkey Day, it won’t be the same without my obnoxious, boisterous family hogging the best parts of the bird. My mother makes absolutely the best cranberry sauce I’ve ever had, and I’m not ready for my first Thanksgiving without it, or without her. My mom is my best friend in the world, and no matter how much FaceTime and texting we do, I miss her more and more every day. This at least, all my friends can sympathize with, as almost everyone at university leaves mummy to come to school. Unfortunately, no hug ever feels as good as a mother’s, so I just have to hope I’ll make it to Christmas without her, her hugs and her cranberry sauce.

Mom and I making our first trip to my accommodation. (The trooper made two additional trips on her own while I began putting everything in a place.) 

My best tip for surviving homesickness is to let it happen. Don’t try to avoid things that remind you of home just because they will make you sad. When you hear the song your dad used to sing in the car, let both the smile sparkle and the tears fall. When you walk past a bag your mom would love but definitely doesn’t need, feel free to snap a picture and send it to her. Most of all, if you can’t remember the day of the week that you last called your family, you’re probably due for a chat. They miss you, too.

August to December is a really, really long time to be away from your parents when you move away for the first time. And some days, it really, really sucks. But somedays, Mom, I’m alright. I get up, I make my bed, have a real breakfast, and go to class. I don’t exercise as much as I should but I’m trying my best. I look both ways, several times, before crossing the street, and I don’t walk alone at night. I separate my whites and my darks and make sure not to leave wet laundry in the drum too long. I laugh with my friends and cry with them too. Leaving you was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done, but it’s because of you that I am strong enough to survive it. And I promise I will go back and buy you that bag you don’t need.

Didn't end up buying the British headband/hat things. Kinda regret it.