On Valentine’s Day, I was used to receiving roses and chocolates. Even though they were exclusively from my mom, I always appreciated the gesture and looked forward to it every year. Now, I’ll be lucky if I can find the time to go to CVS and buy myself a chocolate rose without choking back tears. Valentine’s Day back home was never about romantic relationships, but about all the love I had in my life. 

I’ve spent every Feb. 14 for the past 19 years without a Valentine. It never bothered me because I had a network of people that dulled the bittersweet ache of being lonely on this cheesy holiday. However, being here in Boston thousands of miles away from them, I miss the chocolates more than ever.

People constantly warned me about homesickness before I moved to the United States from Bolivia. Though I understood that I would miss my friends, my family, and my life back home, I thought that it would settle once I found my place at Emerson. Unfortunately, it wasn’t that easy. 

Homesickness weighs heavily on college students’ experience, especially during the first 10 weeks when 94% of freshmen will feel homesick, according to the National Institute of Health. As they adjust throughout the semester, however, this loneliness will fade. For some reason, mine hadn’t worn off by the time I returned to campus from winter break, and it still hasn’t to this day. With Valentine’s Day looming, I find myself thinking about all the people back home and how they won’t be here with me to enjoy it once more. 

Starting college, a whole new world opened up for me, and whether I liked it or not, I had to make myself fit. Everything, from the people, to the greetings, to the dynamics, changed from those I was accustomed to. Most jarring of all, however, has to be the relationships with people. Truth be told, it took me a while to solidify a group of friends because I found it extremely difficult to relate to Americans. Even though I speak fluent English and immerse myself in American media almost every day, a gap still exists between me and those who were born here. I couldn’t relate to the quintessential American life, and so I struggled to make connections.

I found myself calling my hometown friends almost every day, and making weekly plans to meet up with a childhood friend who also moved to Boston. We would exchange first-semester horror stories, most of which highlighted our inability to adapt to our new environments as quickly as we thought we would. Within the first week of class, people had already formed solid friend groups while I struggled to keep up. 

With my homesickness at an all time high, I felt like I was failing because I couldn’t replicate the safety net I had back home. Later I realized that I was doing a huge disservice to myself by trying to bring Bolivia to Boston. In reality, I will never be able to connect with people as I did back home, but I came to college to create new stories, not retell the same one over and over again. So I opened my heart to the people I met here and, despite some heartbreak and loss, I can confidently say I’ve found a place in this community. I’m still homesick every day, but I’ve learned to cope with the pain by surrounding myself with people who make me feel less unmoored in this strange new place.  

Now I understand that whether I’m back home stressing my mother out while baking batches of cupcakes for a Galentine’s party with my childhood best friends, or here stuffing six girls into a Little Building dorm room to eat comfort food, the love doesn’t change—it just shifts continents.

So to all the college students feeling more lonely and homesick than ever this week, just know you’re not really alone. All the relationships, friendships, and love you have back home are still there, and even though we can’t tangibly feel it at the moment, they’ll be waiting for us.