What I mean when I say I'm homesick

Hi friend,

If you’re new here: on Sundays, I send a collection of mini memoirs from my life in the UK. Each weekly dispatch is filled with stories and things I’ve noticed—at home, in books, on my walks, in the world, and within myself. My hope is they feel reflective and calming, and inspire you to notice more in your own life. Writing them certainly helps me notice more in mine… 🕯️

Saturday, June 13, 2026

It’s rare for all of us to be home together on a Saturday afternoon. The kids are now teens with friends and a girlfriend, and seem to have more and more plans that take them out of the house. But we’re all home today, and three of us are outside working in the back garden.

Since knowing him, I’ve watched Tall Man transform the inside of this house. Almost every wall has been painted, every light has been changed, and every item was thoughtfully curated. Now, he’s turning his attention outside. He has a vision, and the youngest and I are excited to add our own input and help bring it all to life.

Part of my vision is to help get more light into the house. (Are you surprised? lol) To do that, I’ve suggested that we remove a row of bushes that are raised up a few feet and a bit too close to the house. We’re going to attempt to transfer most of them to other spots in the garden, but get rid of a few. Today, we are tackling the biggest one we’ll be getting rid of. A single hedge plant, very common, maybe an English Yew? Planted 15+ years ago, its roots are strong, but it’s in such an awkward spot. We are taking turns digging, when the youngest yells out.

“I can’t do it! I need help!”

Only I don’t hear it in her voice. I hear my niece. I’m transported back to Victoria, where she often said the exact same thing, and am hit with an unexpected wave of homesickness. It’s unlike anything I’ve felt since moving to the UK 4.5 years ago, and it’s been coming and going since I returned two weeks ago.

I don’t know what to do with this new feeling right now. But for the rest of the day, I notice its presence.

Sunday, June 14, 2026

I know some of you are waiting for this story… I was too.

It’s early afternoon and I’m back at Sainsbury’s, here to say goodbye to Mark. There’s another long line today. His is the only till that’s open. Just as I’m about to start placing my items on the conveyor belt, he signs out and steps away from the till, so someone else can sign in. For a few seconds, I’m panicked! Where is he going!? Is he going on his break? NOW!? Then he looks at me and points, directing me to the next till over. The first customer in line at this one, I realize that for a brief moment, it’ll be just the two of us.

“Just a small shop today?” he notices, as he scans my items through.

“We don’t need much,” I say, while I pack. “But I won’t be in town next weekend, so I wanted to make sure I came to say goodbye!”

“You didn’t have to make a special trip!” he says.

“Of course, I did! I’ll miss our chats, Mark!”

I look back and can see that the customers behind me are listening to us now.

“I’ve always enjoyed chatting with you,” he says.

“Ohhh me too,” I say, then realize I need to say more. The full truth. It’s now or never.

“Especially in the first few years I was living here, and living alone. I didn’t really know anyone, right? But I knew if I came in on the weekend, I’d get to chat with you. And that was something to look forward to.”

It’s silent for a moment. I learned quickly that the Brits don’t always know how to reply to comments like this. It’s too personal, too vulnerable. But I feel that too! It was vulnerable to tell this man who is practically a stranger that our interactions over the last few years have meant something to me. But they have! Most of us walk through life not knowing what impact we have on others. I believe that if someone means something to you, you should tell them.

“That’s very kind of you, and I’m glad,” he finally says, as he hands me my receipt. “You take care now, Cait,” he adds, followed by the line he always closes with:

“All the best!”

I say the same, then look back at the customers who I am now certain heard every word of our conversation. I hope they did. And I hope they know they are about to chat with a very kind soul.

Monday, June 15, 2026

I’m on hold with a woman at one of the local hospitals. She sent me a letter last week asking for proof of my residency, aka proof that I’m entitled to receive free healthcare. I’ve been to the hospital twice since coming back, so I guess it makes sense that someone is following up. But I’ve had to prove my residency to the NHS before, and assumed I wouldn’t have to do it again. I was wrong.

The woman I speak with is lovely. Warm, friendly, funny. Everyone I’ve dealt with through the NHS has been similar! Still, I long for the day where I don’t get letters like this in the mail. Letters that come with a demand and pressure and tight deadlines. Letters that remind me I’m not from here, and are written in a way that make me feel like I’ve done something wrong—when I haven’t.

My visa expires in January. Have I told you that, friend? I’ll be applying to stay, and that should be fine… but I still feel stressed about it. I wonder if there’s a name for this particular kind of stress: you can only experience it if you’re living in a country you’re not from, and the government could decide you can’t stay. Google tells me it’s called visa anxiety. I guess that’s right, but this feels bigger.

It’s the feeling that the life you’re building could be pulled out from under your feet—and you actually know when. So there’s a looming deadline for an event you don’t yet know the outcome of. You just know: your fate will be decided soon.

For me, it’s going to happen in December or January. I don’t know what the government will decide. I came over through ancestry, so it should be fine!? But the way my nervous system works: I’m always waiting for the other shoe to drop. So it’s likely that I’m going to experience an underlying sense of dread and tension for the rest of the year. I can already feel that it’s underneath other things I’m feeling and decisions I’m making (or not making).

I also don’t feel 100% confident about the route I think I can take. So I’ve made an appointment with an immigration lawyer to get some advice. We’re talking next week…

Tuesday, June 16, 2026

I’ve taken myself on a little date today. To a big M&S to see if I might find some new clothes (I don’t). And now, I’m at Waterstones. Like Barnes & Noble in the US or Indigo in Canada, Waterstones is the UK’s biggest bookseller with over 300 locations. I do prefer going to indie bookshops, but the closest one is almost an hour away. It only took me 30 minutes to get here… and it’s nice to be in a big, bright space, surrounded by books. I spend a little time in every section, and the most time in fantasy/romantasy. I’m still reading romance, but am thinking a lot about what else I’m going to read this summer for The Taste Test!

But the real reason I’m here is that I’m trying to answer a question I’ve had for a long time: could I ever see myself working here? At a bookshop: yes. At this one? The amount of natural light it gets is certainly appealing...

I leave feeling more sure of my answer to the bigger question, which is that I’d like to get a part-time job. That feels like such a strange thing to be saying at 40, and after 11 years of being self-employed, but it’s true. I don’t want all of my work to be online anymore. I want to be in the real world. And I want some more in-person community here. I’ve been in the UK for 4.5 years and still don’t feel like I have much of that…

When I get home, I send a text that feels scary but right. I don’t know if it will go anywhere… but if this is something I want for myself, I need to start planting seeds.

Wednesday, June 17, 2026

I’m still thinking about something I got in the mail yesterday. A brown envelope with a white and red stamp. The second I realized it was from Japan, I knew who sent it: Kana Chan. Do you know of her work, friend? Have I directed you to her Substack before? I’ll leave the link below, and direct you to a few of my favourite posts: aging well is about purpose, moving to the countryside isn’t an escape, and what village life taught me about relationships. Her words are a balm, and her pictures are always gorgeous.

I first discovered Kana’s writing through Kelton Wright (my other favourite writer here on Substack). That’s how I discovered she is originally from Canada too, and in the comments we realized we are both from BC. What a small and wonderful world.

When I was in Victoria, I had breakfast with my friend Sharon Lam. I normally keep my people quite private, but Sharon is an artist and so I will use her full name and proudly direct you to her website and Instagram profile! Over our coffees, we got on the topic of Substack, and I told her about these two favourite writers of mine.

“Kana Chan?” she asked. “Laura Kana Chan!?”

“I think so!” I said, then checked her Instagram to confirm.

“I went to university with her!” Sharon said!

And the world felt even smaller, in the best way. I have since been told they’ve reconnected online too.

Yesterday, I opened the envelope from Kana and found the most beautiful surprise inside. A handwritten note and three postcards, packaged together with intention—and I followed the instructions. Instantly, I felt my body relax. I was standing in a place I’ve never been but could feel all around me.

I’m still thinking about it now, because it shifted something inside me, friend.

I think I’ve been feeling homesick because my sense of “home” feels unsettled right now. I’m still not fully settled in this house; still feel like I’m living out of a bag sometimes. But bigger than that: my future in the UK feels uncertain now, in a way that was easier to not think about in years 2 and 3 of my 5-year visa.

I’ve moved 32 times in my life, friend. Having a home is something I didn’t think I cared about, for most of my life… but living at The Lighthouse changed that. It changed me. I can imagine TM and I moving to a different house one day, but I don’t want to ever again move at the pace I used to. I want to settle, and feel settled. And that’s not how I feel right now…

It’s going to take more time and more work for this to change (and for answers about immigration to come). But Kana’s package reminded me there are other parts of myself I can step into right now. The parts of me that are slow, mindful, creative, and intentional. Being myself is what will probably help me most during this process.

It also reminded me that I’m not alone. There are like-minded people who share your values all over the world. The more you show up as your full self, the more of them you’ll find. You might even become pen pals.

Thursday, June 18, 2026

This week’s dispatch was a long one, so I’m going to sign off a couple days early, friend. Later today, I’m getting in the car and driving a few hours south to visit my friend Sasha. It’s been a full year since we’ve spent proper time together, but we’ve been making plans! Lots of tiny plans, as this new writer I discovered wrote about recently:

“Something to look forward to without risking disappointment. A future small enough to control. And maybe that's what this decade has done to people. Not made us pessimistic. Just cautious. … People don’t dream in decades anymore. They dream in weekends.”

I have definitely been dreaming about this weekend. And the timing of this little friend trip couldn’t feel better.

Do you have any tiny plans for this weekend, friend?

And do you have a pen pal? Or any practices around sending snail mail?

xx Cait