One Life One Encounter

You can choose the life that feels right for your soul and still miss the one you left behind.

Homesickness hit me after about two and a half months.

Not for my house.
Not for the creature comforts I used to have (what even is a hot shower anymore?).
I’m homesick for my people.

My friends — who are my family

I have several friends back home going through difficult, deeply personal things right now. And not being there physically has been gnawing at me. Not because I could fix anything — I know I can’t — but because I want to show up the way I always have. I want to give hugs. I want to sit across the table from them. I want to just be there.

I was prepared for leaving.
I was prepared for how relationships change with distance.

But knowing that doesn’t make it hurt any less.

It doesn’t stop the longing.
It doesn’t quiet the desire to be in two places at once.
It doesn’t stop the feeling of being torn in two — because I chose this. I chose to leave.

And while my soul knows this was the right decision, I would be lying if I said there aren’t parts of me that still long for what was. I miss being hugged in return by someone who knows me intimately. I’m grateful for texts and FaceTime — for being able to see the people I love, even through a screen — but nothing replaces sitting across from someone and feeling their energy meet yours.

You can be sitting in a place people romanticize and still ache for arms that aren’t there. That doesn’t make you ungrateful — it makes you human.

This isn’t regret.
It’s grief.

Grief for people I love.
Grief for closeness I can’t access right now.
Grief for the reality that choosing myself doesn’t turn off my capacity to love others.

If it helps at all, I’m starting to understand that this part usually shows up right when you’ve settled in enough to feel safe. When the adrenaline wears off. When you’re no longer just surviving the newness. That’s often when the heart finally has room to speak up — and say what it’s been holding all along.

Sadness doesn’t mean I’m doing this wrong.
Homesickness doesn’t mean I should go back.
Tears don’t cancel courage.

If anything, they’re proof of it.

I’m grateful that I have people important enough in my life to miss. I’m grateful for the tears falling right now, because I know they’re my soul’s way of expressing deep love — not weakness, not doubt.

So I’m leaning into the discomfort.
I’m giving myself permission to feel all of it.
I’m trusting that tomorrow brings a new day, a new perspective, a new breath.

There’s a myth I think we need to let go of.

I’m sitting lakeside, staring at three volcanoes. I haven’t punched a time clock in over two months. I’m free from a lot of the stress most people carry. I’m living a life my soul has been asking for for a long time.

And I’m still allowed to miss home.

I’m still allowed to feel sad.
I’m still allowed to wonder what if.

Yes — I chose this life.
Yes — I miss my old one.

Both things can be true at the same time.
They can both take up space.

Juntos.

-A