This summer has been chaotic. In the course of five weeks I have been to Chicago, Ohio, back to London, then to Paris, and back to London again. I've had new friends from Chicago visit and played tour guide with my mother. I've gotten a job, finished my first semester of my Masters, and exhausted my bank account.
I used to be a person who never suffered from bouts of homesickness. I've always been independent and have never though of myself as a home body. I've always thought that when I grew up (which I guess is now) I would be nomadic; a wandering traveller. In some ways I guess I am this. But, it seems, that at the same time this nomadic travelling lifestyle has made me realize just how much I miss home.
Now don't start to worry. I don't spend my nights crying in my room, clutching my things from home (although I do walk around in my brother's old pajama pants and cuddle in my baby panda blanket from home quite often). It's just that I spent most of my life in Ohio dreaming about what else was out there. When I thought about my future, I pictured myself in Colorado, Oregon, Europe. I longed for something different than the midwest, something different than what I grew up with.
And thats what I got. I worked my ass off and now I'm here, in this city an ocean away, a place completely different from home. And I love it, I do, but this place where I now live and work and study--this new home--sometimes just isn't enough. It seems as if it's been rainy and cold here for weeks; yesterday was the first time I had seen proper sunshine in quite a while. I constantly find myself missing things that used to seem annoying, repetitive, cliche midwest. I miss the smothering heat of Ohio summers, the way it hardly ever cools off, even at night. I miss floating in my raft at the quarry, half submerged in lake water, sipping on a beer. I miss the freckles that used to pop up on my skin from the summer sun. Recently the thing I've been missing the most is late night walks. It's not exactly safe to walk alone at night here (especially in my neighborhood) and in a city like this it would be impossible to walk at night undisturbed by other people. I miss walking three blocks back to Wayne Manor, unannounced, knowing that most likely Jon Dorsey would be there and we could porch sit.
There's a lot of things about this nomadic, european lifestyle that hadn't occurred to me beforehand. It hadn't occurred to me that I am a person who needs community until I found myself alone. Of course I had so many friends and "family" back home; I had twenty-three years to cultivate the perfect groups of friends. It's hard starting over and yes it is lonely and frustrating at times. I've made some really great friends here and I value them so much because they really are my family here. They are invaluable really, because they're all I have. Plus they're fun and smart and great to talk to. But it's these kinds of things that living abroad has taught me.
I don't regret my time here at all. I've learned that loneliness teaches you more about yourself. I've learned that Ohio really isn't all that bad (in fact it's pretty great). I've learned that I'm stronger than I ever imagined. And most importantly I think, I've learned that distance really does make the heart grow fonder.
I'm halfway through my program (not counting the terror inducing four months that will be my dissertation in the spring) and I guess that could be why I'm evaluating my experiences so fervently. I'm getting close to the point where I have to make decisions regarding my near future: do I stay or do I go? I love London and in many ways it will always be a home to me. Nothing to me will be more valuable than this experience. But if I were to honestly answer that question I would say I most likely will be coming home. I guess the main reason I value this experience so much, other than the fact that this was something that seemed so impossible for so long, is that it helped me to realize that I can have many places of home, but really there's always only going to be one home for me. High Street and Short North, IUKAhouse and Grandview, Hilliard and its suburbs; and then the hills and the country (and all my family that I miss more than anything else) on the weekends. Those places will always be my home.
So today I spent the afternoon with my dear Canadian friend Claire and we decided we could sulk for today. We wallowed and talked about what we missed most. And the we declared that the sulking was done. We're in London after all so from now on we're going to enjoy our time here. And we're planning in advance for the occasions when homesickness will creep in; we've got Thanksgiving plans (both Canadian Thanksgiving and American Thanksgiving) in the works. We're going to travel and work and laugh and learn. We're going to miss home but enjoy our time here because we know home will be there waiting for us, when we're finally ready and able to return.
