Homesick for the Person You Were Back Home

The hidden grief many migrants experience

Many migrants don’t actually miss their country.

They miss the version of themselves they were there.

This is the grief nobody really talks about. Not the grief of leaving a place, but the grief of losing yourself somewhere inside the migration journey.

People often talk about their past as if it holds no significance anymore. As if the life they built before migration doesn’t really count. As if who they were back home should be minimised in order to fit their new life.

But when I say this in counselling sessions, people often tear up:

“The past version of you who wanted to migrate so badly would be so proud of you. You’ve forgotten that migration was once a dream.”

That moment matters. Because migration didn’t happen by accident. It was once imagined, hoped for, worked toward.

And when the dream finally becomes reality, many migrants discover a quieter loss they never expected.

Identity grief after migration

One of the least discussed emotional experiences of migration is identity grief.

Not grief for a country, but grief for the person you used to be.

Migration can quietly strip away things that once felt natural:

• Ease

• Confidence

• Humour

• Recognition

• Reputation

• Competence

For many migrants, humour and lightness disappear first. Suddenly everything feels serious. High-stakes. Carefully measured.

There’s no time for play. No space to relax into yourself.

People often say things like:

“I feel smaller.”

“I used to be funny.”

“I was someone back home.”

These are not exaggerations. They are signals of identity disruption.

One way I often explain this is that migrants compare the full movie of their life back home with the trailer of their life in a new country.

The movie contains years of experience, relationships, confidence, and familiarity. The trailer has only just begun.

When these two are compared, the conclusion many people reach is:

Something must be wrong with me.

But the real shift is context.

Why migration changes how you see yourself

Migration changes your environment. And when your environment changes, your identity changes with it.

You move from being known to being unknown.

The systems you once understood automatically no longer apply. Cultural rules change. Workplace expectations shift. Communication styles are different. You are constantly decoding situations that others navigate instinctively.

That invisible effort is exhausting.

And here is something important to remember.

This is not personal.

One of the biggest tricks of discrimination, racism, and many other systemic barriers is convincing people that structural problems are personal shortcomings.

The system benefits when individuals blame themselves.

The reality is that many migrants are navigating systems that were never designed with them in mind.

Understanding this changes the story from “What is wrong with me?” to “What am I carrying that was never mine to begin with?”

How migration grief shows up in everyday life

Identity grief after migration doesn’t always look like sadness. It often appears in behaviours.

Over-explaining

Trying to justify your place in the world. Trying to prove your competence or worthiness when you don’t fully believe it yourself. Words keep coming because the deeper need is to be believed.

Withdrawing

Pulling back can be a form of self-protection. When you already feel like parts of yourself are disappearing, retreating can feel safer than risking further loss.

“Fine” becoming your default answer

Life is fine. Work is fine. Your relationship is fine.

When the truth feels too complicated or too risky to explain, fine becomes the safest response.

None of this means something is wrong with you.

It means you are navigating grief while building a new life.

Integrating your old identity into your new life

Moving forward doesn’t require abandoning who you used to be.

Integration means honouring the person who got you here without forcing them to fit perfectly into your new environment.

One simple but powerful practice is writing a letter.

You can write a letter to your past self or from your past self to you now.

This exercise helps reconnect you with the version of you who once dreamed of migration. The courage it took. The hope that carried you forward. The determination that made the move possible.

That person hasn’t disappeared.

They may simply be tired.

Growth after migration takes time

The part of you that got you here doesn’t want to give up.

It just needs a rest.

Growth is rarely comfortable. If this stage of your migration journey feels confusing or unsettling, it doesn’t mean you are failing. It often means change is happening.

Migration is already difficult enough.

You do not need to punish yourself for struggling with it.

If you’ve been in your new country for years and still feel quietly unsettled, this may be the grief you’re carrying.

Not homesickness for a place.

But homesickness for the person you used to be.

And that version of you hasn’t disappeared.

You’re simply growing into someone new.