Homesickness, Transitions, and Being a Little Tender

When I moved from the UK to Melbourne, I expected the big things to be hard — setting up home, registering for work, figuring out which bin is which. But I didn’t quite expect the small, quiet ache of homesickness to catch me off guard. Sometimes it comes out of nowhere: the sound of the birds in the morning isn’t quite the same, a pang when I can’t just pop round to see family, or the way the word autumn feels a bit borrowed here (autumn and winter in Melbourne are a bit like the British summer!).

And still, I love it here.

I’ve been in Melbourne just over a year now. There’s so much I’ve come to appreciate — the light on the gum trees in the afternoon, the easy pace of a Sunday coffee in the many cool suburbs, the warmth and openness I’ve found in both friends and clients. I feel incredibly lucky to work in a field I care deeply about, both in public health and through my small private practice. But adjusting to life in a new place, even a wonderful one, isn’t always easy. And I’ve realised that homesickness isn’t just about missing a place — it’s about missing familiarity, routine, history.

It’s a kind of grief, really. And like all grief, it asks to be felt rather than fixed.

In my work as a psychologist, I often support people through transitions — adjusting to illness, to loss, to a changed sense of self. We talk about identity, belonging, and how hard it can be to find your feet when life no longer looks like it used to. My own experience of relocating has deepened my empathy for this. It’s reminded me that caring for our emotional wellbeing during transition isn’t always about “getting over it” — sometimes, it’s about being a little tender with ourselves as we adapt.

Some of the things that help me are the same things I gently offer to clients:

• Naming what’s hard, without judgement.

• Finding rituals that ground you.

• Reaching out, even when it feels awkward.

• Letting yourself feel a little tender.

And, of course, a good series on Netflix or Stan never hurts.

Whether you're adjusting to something big, or just feeling a bit adrift, you’re not alone. Sometimes, the work of therapy is simply creating space for those feelings — and giving yourself permission to be human in the midst of change.

Warmly,

Matt

Dr Matthew Brown
Clinical Psychologist | Icon Psychology