How to carry home when you miss it

It hits in the quiet.

Not always on the first day. Sometimes not even in the first week. But one day, you’ll sit in a room with people laughing like they’ve known each other forever, and you’ll feel it: I miss home — at least that’s how I felt homesick.

Homesickness doesn’t just disappear. But you can work through it. You can move past it — not by pretending it’s not there, but by doing small, meaningful things that help you build a new kind of familiarity. A new kind of home.

Here are nine things I learned that helped me not just survive homesickness but slowly leave it behind.

1. Call, but not to escape.

Sometimes, calling home brings comfort. Other times, it leaves you aching more than before. With time, you’ll learn when it soothes and when it stings. Call your family, your old friends, your person back home, but don’t call just to avoid being where you are. Keep the connection, but don’t let it keep you stuck. You’re allowed to — and I think you should — move forward.

2. Find small home rituals that belong to your new life.

Homesickness is rarely about one person. It’s about rhythm. Routines, scents, voices in the background. So, create new ones! Brew tea every night the way your dad used to — but now it’s your own mug, your own dorm stove or kettle, your own soundtrack. Walk the same block at 6 p.m. because it’s quiet and golden. Pick a table, a café, a stairwell. Repeat until it’s yours.

3. Let people in.

Homesickness thrives in isolation. You might think no one here gets you, but have you let anyone try? Start with something small. Share a story from your childhood. Talk about the music you grew up on. Show someone the weird way you eat your cereal. Little by little, you’ll let people see the version of you that existed before Hopkins. And soon, you’ll stop feeling so alone.

4. Say what hurts, then remind yourself why you came.

It’s okay to admit it: “I miss home.” That’s not weakness. That’s honesty. But don’t stop there! Say it, and then say this too: “I chose to be here.” Reclaim that choice. Revisit what you hoped for when you applied. Let the version of you that dared to dream remind the current you what you’re working toward.

5. Use memory as a tool, not a trap.

You don’t have to let go of home. You just must stop standing outside its door, hoping it opens again. Instead, bring it with you, piece by piece. If a spice reminds you of your mom’s cooking, buy it. If a time of day reminds you of your old routine, do something steady at that hour here. Recreate texture. Layer memory into your new life until it starts to feel rooted.

6. Outgrow the homesick version of you — with grace.

The homesick version of you tries. Cries more, maybe. Scrolls through old texts. Stays quiet when it wants to speak. Be gentle — but also be firm. Let it grieve, but don’t let it take the wheel. Keep walking. One day, without fanfare, you’ll realize that version of you isn’t steering anymore. You are.

7. Say yes to things you almost said no to.

This one’s real: Some of your best memories will begin on days when you didn’t feel like leaving your room. A random lecture might open your world. A hallmate’s invite might lead to laughter and best friendship you weren’t expecting. Go! Even if it’s just to sit in a different space. Let life have the chance to prove you wrong.

8. Make yourself belong.

Belonging doesn’t always come to you; you must step toward it. Join a club, go to office hours, sit in the same spot often enough that someone recognizes your face. The trick to feeling at home isn’t waiting to be noticed. It’s choosing to stay long enough to be known.

9. Remember: this place will miss you one day, too.

One day, you’ll graduate and leave this place and something will ache. You’ll miss the walk to class, the smell of your favorite food spot, the way your roommate’s bed creaked when they got up too fast. And you’ll realize: The homesickness faded. It didn’t vanish all at once. It softened, shifted, made space for joy. And by then, you’ll have a new kind of home to carry forward.

My parting shot? Homesickness means you loved where you were. But growth doesn’t betray that. Root yourself here, at Hopkins, in Baltimore. One day, you’ll stop aching and start belonging.

Nishad Okutoyi is a sophomore majoring in Neuroscience from Nairobi, Kenya.