Between Goodbyes and Hellos : The Psychology of the Two Homes Problem
Every time I start packing my suitcase, a wave of emotions crashes over me and leaves me with a heavy heart. Walking down the boarding gate always gives me jitters- it doesn’t matter whether I’m flying back to the city I grew up in or the city that embraced me. That strange mix of excitement and sadness makes me feel like I’m gaining and losing something at the same time.
That’s the thing about having more than one home: you’re always leaving, even when you’re not. Each trip feels like rediscovering a version of myself that I haven’t lived with, in a while. When I flew back to India almost a year later, I felt it intensely- sadness as I left seattle and a rush of joy the moment I smelled the monsoon rain in my hometown.
When “Home” becomes Plural
At 14 I thought home was just one place, somewhere I grew up, a city, a foundation that gave me everything I was. But now at 19 I’ve learnt it’s a little complicated
Home isn’t just a house or a pin on the map. It’s people who ground me, routines that comfort me and the emotions that tie them all together. Each home gives me something I carry forward, whether I’m conscious of it or not.
Psychologists call this state of being in- between places a “liminal space”. Airports, road trips, train rides- are all thresholds. That feeling of not being fully here, not there yet, just suspended in transition. And psychology tells us that uncertainty magnifies emotions. The brain craves stability, the heart craves comfort but travel forces us to face the fluidity of belonging once “home” becomes plural.
Do I have Attachment Issues?
Attachment Theory developed by John Bowlby, described how humans form deep emotional bonds in childhood- bonds that provide security, comfort and stability. But the attachment doesn’t stop there. As we grow, we continue to form attachments not only to people, but also to places, routines and even objects.
When I leave home, whether it was my parents house at 17, my college dorm at 18 and my first big girl apartment at 19, the brain interprets that departure as a rupture in those bonds. That's why airport goodbyes feel heavier than expected, why returning to one home makes you miss the other. The separation may be temporary but the attachment system treats it as a loss.
And just like with relationships, the stronger the bond, the harder the goodbye. But I’ve started reframing that ache. It hurts to leave because I’ve built something worth leaving — and something worth coming back to.
The Two Homes problem and our mental health.
There's a quiet ache living in between homes, but also a psychological richness in it. Having two or more homes means that you’ve built multiple places of belonging- and belonging is central to mental health. Maslow placed it right after safety and right before esteem for a reason: without it, everything else feels shaky.
But belonging comes with a paradox: the more places you feel rooted, the more you’ll feel the tug of absence. For students and anyone who splits life across places, this often shows up as a constant, low-level homesickness. Not because they don’t belong anywhere, but because they belong to too many places at once.
And sometimes, that in-betweenness bleeds into imposter syndrome. You feel too local in one place, too foreign in another. Too grown-up in one context, still someone’s child in another. It makes you question whether you truly fit anywhere — when in reality, being able to belong in more than one world is adaptability, not fraudulence.
Making Peace With the In-Between
What I’ve learned is that the ache of leaving never fully disappears — but it can soften. For me, that means:
Redefining “home” as people, not geography : A FaceTime call can sometimes feel more grounding than a familiar street.
Allowing grief and gratitude to coexist : It hurts to leave, but it hurts because there’s something worth missing.
Leaning into liminality : Instead of resisting the “in-between,” I’ve started treating airports like reflection spaces. Journal at the gate, read something I never make time for, or just let myself feel without distraction.
Final Thoughts
Leaving one home to return to another will always carry a sting. But maybe that sting is proof of something beautiful: that we are capable of building belonging in more than one place.
The two homes problem is really the many homes privilege. And while it can create moments of sadness or uncertainty, it also means your sense of home isn’t fragile. It’s layered, resilient, and bigger than a single pin on a map. Mental health isn’t just about diagnoses or treatment — it’s also about learning to sit with the small griefs of goodbye, the uncertainty of liminal spaces, and the messy privilege of having more than one place where you belong.
Because in the end, to leave is to hurt. To return is to heal. And to belong is to hold both at once.
References
Holmes, J. (1993). John Bowlby and Attachment Theory (Second edition., pp. xi–xi). Routledge. https://doi.org/10.4324/9780203136805
Maslow, A. H. (1943). A theory of human motivation. Psychological Review, 50(4), 370–396. https://doi.org/10.1037/h0054346
Clance, P. R., & Imes, S. A. (1978). The imposter phenomenon in high achieving women: Dynamics and therapeutic intervention. Psychotherapy (Chicago, Ill.), 15(3), 241–247. https://doi.org/10.1037/h0086006
