You’re Not a ‘Bad Traveler’ If You Miss Home Sometimes

Table of Contents

That time I ugly-cried in an airport bathroom

Why homesickness doesn’t mean you’re doing travel “wrong”

The sneaky guilt trip travelers give themselves

How to actually sit with homesickness without spiraling

Weirdly comforting routines that work anywhere

Oh, and what this has to do with travel burnout

Quick detour: why airport lounge chairs are evil

Learning to see homesickness as growth (not failure)

When to call it quits and just go home (yes, really)

Wrapping up: You’re human. That’s the point.

1. That time I ugly-cried in an airport bathroom

Picture this: I’m in Lisbon. Gorgeous tiles, pastel de nata everywhere, the kind of trip Instagram thinks will cure your soul. And where am I? Slumped against a sink in the Lisbon Airport bathroom, eating a stale sandwich and crying so hard my face mask stuck to my cheeks. A janitor asked if I was okay in Portuguese and I just gave her a thumbs-up with mayo on it.

Homesickness hit me like a truck. Not the cute “aw, I miss my cat” kind. I’m talking full “what if I just fly home right now and live in sweatpants forever?” meltdown. And for some reason, I felt like that meant I’d failed at traveling. Like real travelers don’t get homesick, right? (Spoiler: they totally do.)

2. Why homesickness doesn’t mean you’re doing travel “wrong”

Here’s the thing: missing home isn’t a sign you’re weak. It’s a sign you’re alive. You’re wired to crave the familiar. Your brain likes that specific smell of your own pillow, the sound of your fridge humming at 3 a.m., and yes, even your neighbor’s annoying wind chimes. When you rip all that away, your nervous system goes, “Hey uh… what’s happening??”

Homesickness is basically your emotional smoke alarm. Annoying, but useful. It tells you you’re out of your comfort zone—which is kind of the point of travel.

Oh, that reminds me—if you think traveling slower helps, you’re right. I wrote something about travel burnout being real (I mean, hello, try three cities in five days and tell me you’re not exhausted).

3. The sneaky guilt trip travelers give themselves

Ever notice how people brag about not missing home? Like it’s a competition? “I could stay on the road forever, I never even think about home!” Cool, Jared. Some of us like our couches.

That guilt is sneaky because it makes you feel like you’re not adventurous enough, or not “built” for travel. But honestly? The best travelers I know admit they get lonely, cranky, and desperate for decent tap water sometimes.

Wait, where was I going with this? Oh yeah—don’t buy into the highlight reel culture of “constant wanderlust.” You’re not broken. You’re just… human.

4. How to actually sit with homesickness without spiraling

I’m gonna give you advice but immediately second-guess myself:

1. Let yourself feel it. Don’t bury it under overpriced airport wine.

2. Talk to someone back home. (But maybe not at 3 a.m. their time… learned that one the hard way.)

3. Do one small familiar thing. For me, it’s making bad instant coffee in hotel mugs. For you, maybe it’s listening to that one playlist that feels like your bedroom.

Actually… scratch #2 if you’re prone to crying on FaceTime in public. Your call.

5. Weirdly comforting routines that work anywhere

• Carry a memory foam pillow for long hauls. (Inflatable works if you pack light, but I personally hate sounding like I’m blowing up a beach ball in row 26B.)

• Bring something stupidly specific from home. I always pack my lucky avocado keychain. Don’t ask why.

• Eat one “boring” meal a day. You’re allowed to have plain toast in Paris if it keeps you sane.

Oh, and if you’re stuck on a layover, I have a whole ramble about turning waiting into a mini adventure. It’s not all duty-free perfume and sadness.

6. Oh, and what this has to do with travel burnout

Homesickness and burnout are best friends. If you’re hopping around nonstop, not sleeping well, and pretending to love every second… yeah, your brain’s gonna wave a little white flag. Slowing down (more days in fewer places) really helps. Trust me—I’ve done the “five hostels in seven nights” thing. My spine still hasn’t forgiven me.

7. Quick detour: why airport lounge chairs are evil

Okay, unrelated rant: why are airport lounge chairs always too short to nap on but just long enough to make you think you can? Don’t get me started on those armrests. Anyway, back to homesickness…

8. Learning to see homesickness as growth (not failure)

Every time I’ve missed home, I’ve also learned something weird about myself. Like the time I cried because I couldn’t find decent peanut butter in Berlin—apparently food nostalgia is a thing. Or when I called my friend Sarah (fake name, real person) and she reminded me I’d romanticized travel too much in my head.

Missing home makes you appreciate home. It also makes you realize travel isn’t just about collecting countries like Pokémon cards—it’s about figuring out what actually matters to you. And sometimes that’s your own bed.

9. When to call it quits and just go home (yes, really)

Here’s an unpopular opinion: it’s okay to end a trip early. If you’re miserable and counting the hours, that’s not character-building, that’s just… misery. You don’t need to prove anything to anyone. The Eiffel Tower will still be there next year.

10. Wrapping up: You’re human. That’s the point.

So yeah, you’re not a “bad traveler” for missing home. You’re not less adventurous. You’re not boring. You’re normal. And honestly? If anything, it probably means you’re traveling right—because you’ve made a home worth missing.

Have you ever had one of those “I just wanna teleport to my couch” moments on a trip? What did you do? (If your answer is “cried into an airport sandwich,” welcome to the club.)

If you liked this rambling mess, maybe check out my other stuff? No pressure though.

 

Author Profile:

Hi, I’m Florian Werner, the founder of FLOWZOOM. The idea for FLOWZOOM started during an unforgettable trip around the world. After spending what felt like forever on long flights, I noticed just how tough it is to stay comfortable while traveling.

I tried every travel pillow I could find, hoping for some relief—but nothing worked the way I needed it to. That’s when I decided to create my own. At FLOWZOOM, we focus on designing pillows that actually do what they’re supposed to: keep you comfortable and supported while you travel.

I’ve spent years figuring out what makes a great travel pillow. My goal is to make every trip easier for people who, like me, want to enjoy their journey without the aches and pains. I’m proud to share what I’ve learned through FLOWZOOM’s products and tips for better travel.

Here’s to making every trip a little more comfortable!