Having spent many years abroad, enduring a major health crisis and coming close to death, I long to go back home to be closer to my loved ones. Nevertheless, I enjoy a fulfilling life here with my husband (we don’t have kids): we both have satisfying careers (I successfully transitioned to a new profession after my illness and secured a fantastic position), and a charming home in a desirable neighborhood.
I often feel quite isolated here because, despite my husband and workmates, I have very few friends. Additionally, my health keeps declining due to a compromised immune system and a couple of autoimmune conditions. I yearn to return home and envision a dream life in a quaint little house surrounded by my family and friends. Ideally, I would like to work less and spend more quality time with my parents during their retirement.
I realize it won’t be idyllic and that we carry our issues with us, but on some days, the longing for home is overwhelming. The move would involve a significant upheaval and expense, yet I am determined to return. My husband is worried about the financial implications, job prospects, and whether I will find happiness there. I’ve attempted to settle here, but creating friendships as deep as those I have back home proves impossible. When I go back, I effortlessly reintegrate as though I never left. What should I consider doing?
Eleanor says: Among all the knowledgeable individuals who could provide advice on this matter, the voice that resonated with me while reading your message was David Byrne’s: “how did I end up here?” You can possess a beautiful home and still think, “this is not my beautiful home!” It seems that your husband acknowledges the “beautiful” aspects: nice area, stable jobs, secure finances. Meanwhile, you perceive the elements that don’t resonate as yours.
You are already aware of the pros and cons. You’ve endured a significant journey; your longing for home is intense; you’re suffering from homesickness. Financial resources can be replenished, but parents and old friends cannot. However, there’s a significant risk involved in glorifying the idea of home. You departed years ago; much of what you miss belongs to the past. Additionally, this could place a substantial burden on your husband. It may require him to experience more discomfort so that you can experience less. The challenge, as always, is finding a way to evaluate aspects that don’t have standard measurement units.
I want to emphasize a critical point: don’t base this decision solely on the number of days that have passed without making one.
Since you are the one seeking change, you may be susceptible to the inertia of the status quo. For you not to achieve what you desire, all that needs to happen is that, day after day, you and your husband discuss other matters. It’s not the right moment; I’m exhausted from work; it doesn’t seem like a viable scenario. Each day without engagement accumulates, leading to your staying put.
This applies to all of us who grapple with the nagging feeling that someday things must change: if nothing shifts, we are destined to remain in our current situation. I realize we all understand that on some level, but if you’re anything like me, recognizing something does not always equate to accepting it.
One approach to counteract the inertia is simply to initiate action. You can take the first step. Begin job hunting. Start searching for a new home. Begin establishing social connections in his professional field. Get started on any paperwork required should you choose to relocate: visas? Pet documentation? Proof of your relationship? Tackle and prepare for some of the challenging realities of life back home outside the fantasy – so your husband isn’t seen as the pessimistic pragmatist.
This strategy may feel aggressive, as it appears you’re choosing to move without his consent. However, the intention is not to impose your will forcefully; you won’t actually board a flight yet. The objective is merely to confront the inertia.
That sensation of, “hold on, what? This seems like a significant decision we should jointly consider” – that’s precisely the reaction you aim to elicit. This happens for you every day you don’t collectively resolve it: a major decision is being made. If you begin treating the idea of returning home as a genuine possibility and start taking steps, the default state of avoiding discussion about it will no longer lead to the outcome of “we remain here.”
I’m not suggesting you should move. You risk compromising a lot of value by chasing an idealized past. What I am saying is that whatever you decide together, ensure it’s not merely passive days of indecision.
*The letter has been edited for brevity
