Ik Heb Heimwee!

I took it upon myself to learn the words in the title several weeks ago. Consider it my very own extra credit assignment. It means, "I am homesick."

Yup, this entire blog post is going to be about how much I want to go home. Don't worry, I'll keep it brief. You can skim if you want, just read it like this, "me me me me memememememememe."

Two years ago today, I boarded a plane for Belgium, 8 months worth of baby belly leading the way. By the time I arrived, it was the 21st of January. I was wildly unprepared for what was to come. I thought I could handle it, after all, I wasn't one of those folks who has never left home. I'd lived all over the U.S. with only mild pangs of homesickness. Let me tell you right now: I was NOT prepared to live abroad. Culture shock is not something to take lightly. It does not go away in a few days, a few weeks, a few months. It amplifies all of those normal "missing home" feelings until they fill up your entire consciousness. Simply put, I miss my people, all my people. From the wonderful friends and family whose absence feels like a wound that never heals to the lady that used to bag my groceries and the kid who delivered the newspaper. I miss feeling at home somewhere.

To all the people who've told me it will get easier, I have a simple question... When?

This isn't an anniversary I will be celebrating, although I'm thinking a bottle of wine to drown my sorrows sounds like a half decent idea.