It didn't hit me like a tsunami of sadness or anything. It crept slowly into the things I do every day here as my brain would subconsciously compare it to the things I did every day back home. It was never overwhelming or anything either. I think sore is the right way to put it. Slightly uncomfortable, but manageable because I know it won't last forever.
What I miss most about home isn't necessarily the exact things that I did, it isjust how natural everything was. I didn't have to think so much about what I did or where I went. I wasn't doing things for the first time all the time. I had ties, a foundation. Even though I had plenty of new friends who I had only known for a couple of months, I also had friends who I had known for years, and some for even my whole life. Everything was easy and everything was comfortable.
Don't get me wrong, I love New York. But moving away from everything that I've ever known is an understandably hard transition. I'm slowly but surely making relationships that I hope will last for a while, and I am very happy here, but I'm starting from scratch and building a new life for myself isn't a walk in the park.
My homesickness hit the hardest after election night. I had just spent the past 5 days barely sleeping and walking over 15,000 steps every day canvassing for Hillary Clinton and her counterparts on the Pennsylvania Democratic Ticket. The loss of the election, especially the loss of Pennsylvania, hurt more than it would have if I hadn't gone on the Campaign Trip. I had skin in the game. It was my work that was being reflected in the outcome, and I knew I had worked so hard to get the right candidate in office. That isn't even mentioning the disastrous platform our President Elect ran on, and how nearly half of voters wanted that platform of hate put in place in our government.
I'm getting off track here.
The only thing I wanted that night was a hug from my mom and a pep talk from my dad. That morning when I woke up and saw that he had really won, I could only imagine the smell of kasha and the sounds of my parents bickering that I knew would have made me feel worlds better. We could have talked about it, we could have made a plan together about what we could to make the world a better place. All I wanted in that moment was to be with my family. (Note: Embarassingly, I'm tearing up a little bit as I write this, and by tearing up I mean full on crying. Oops.)
After crying publicly in my favorite bagel place and posting a picture with a whiny caption on my Instagram, my twin sister came to the rescue. She hopped on a bus that evening and came to spend the weekend with me. It was amazing! It felt so nice to put my guard down. We talked and joked and fought exactly as we did when we were home. Finally, I had someone to quote obscure Vines with! Remember my last post about exploring NYC alone? With my partner in crime, I finally went to Brooklyn, which I had been too scared to do by myself. (BTW, I love Williamsburg/Greenpoint. I need to explore more neighborhoods. Brooklyn officially has my heart).
This weekend was exactly what the doctor ordered. I feel much more positive and excited to keep on working at school and getting to know this new city I call home. Additionally, in just a couple of weeks, my parents are coming up to New York for Thanksgiving, and after that it's a straight shoot to Winter Break in MN. I know eventually my homesickness will subside and I'll get used to long spats of time without talking to my friends from home or family members on a daily basis, face to face. I've got this.
Despite my melodrama, New York really is starting to feel like home. As we were crossing the bridge back into Manhattan after spending Fall Break in Pennsylvania, the feeling of relief that swept over me came as a surprise. I didn't realize how much I really missed this city. Sooner or later, I'll be writing this sappy posts about missing NYC, not MN.
But until then,
T-11 days until Thanksgiving.
Stay fresh,
Camille
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