Homesickness is the feeling of missing home, family, and familiar surroundings when far away, often causing sadness or depression; related vocabulary includes 'adjustment' (the process of adapting to a new environment), 'comforts of home' (things that make you feel good at home, such as family time or familiar activities), 'nostalgic' (thinking positively about the past), and 'bummed out' (slang for being sad or disappointed).
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Homesick | Learn English quickly with podcast | Episode 59
Added:[music] >> Hello everyone and welcome back to English Pod. We have an upper intermediate lesson for you today. My name is Marco.
>> And my name is Catherine. So today we're talking about something that everyone who's ever lived away from home has felt before.
>> Right, and that's the word we're going to preview today. The word is homesick.
>> All right, so let's take a look at that in today's language preview.
>> Vocabulary preview.
>> All right, so homesick. If you feel homesick or you are homesick.
>> Well, yeah. You You could say I'm homesick right now or are you feeling homesick?
>> Mhm.
>> Um so it's a word that means I miss my home, I miss my family, I'm far away or I haven't seen my family in a long time and for some reason you just feel sad.
>> Mhm. Okay, so it's a it's a feeling. You feel a little bit depressed, you feel sad because you're homesick.
>> Right.
>> Okay, so this is what's happening today in our dialogue. So let's listen to it for the first time.
>> Tom, how are you? Hey, we missed you at the party last night. Are you okay?
>> I don't know. I didn't really feel like going out. I guess I'm feeling a little homesick.
>> Come on. We've been through this already. Look, I know the adjustment was hard when you first got here, but we agreed that you were going to try and deal with it.
>> I was. It's just that the holidays are coming up and I won't be able to go home because I can't afford the airfare.
I'm just longing for some of the comforts of home like my mom's cooking and being around my family.
>> Yeah, [music] it can get pretty lonely over the holidays. When I first got here, I'd get depressed and nostalgic for anything that reminded me of home. I almost let it get to me, but then I started going out, keeping myself busy and before I knew it, I was used to it.
>> I see what you mean, but I'm still bummed out.
>> Okay, how does this sound? Let's get you suited up and hit the dance club tonight. [music] I hear that an awesome DJ is playing and there will be a lot of pretty single girls there.
>> You know, I could really go for that.
You don't mind being my wingman for tonight?
>> Not at all. It'll be fun. It will be like a boys night out. Well, kind of.
>> Great. I must warn you though, whatever happens, don't let me go on a drinking binge. Trust me, it's not a pretty picture.
>> [music] >> All righty, we're back. So, yeah, I guess he's very homesick.
>> Very homesick and his friend is really worried.
>> Yeah. Uh but actually, I think this is common, right? To be homesick during the holidays, like Christmas for example.
>> Oh man, it's the worst during the holidays because you think of all the traditions and all the things that you normally do at home and you're not doing them.
>> Mhm. So, this is something we're going to talk more about a little bit later on, but uh let's take a look at some of the language that was used in language takeaway.
>> Language [music] takeaway.
This first one is key, right? So, when you move away from home or when you move to a new place, you have a period of adjustment. So, adjustment is kind of finding the right balance or doing something so that you can kind of feel comfortable.
>> Okay, so you have to adjust to your new life, life away from home.
>> Or your new environment. So, many times people say, "Wow, moving to China must be a big adjustment." So, it means there's so many differences that it must take a long time to feel comfortable again.
>> Mhm, okay. All right, so that's adjustment. Uh what else do we have?
>> Well, we've got this next phrase that's uh that's really important, I think, but often gets overlooked. We say the comforts of home, right?
>> Comforts of home.
>> So, comfort's pretty easy, right?
Feeling comfortable. So, you have comfort, but the comforts are of home are things that are different with every person, but uh those are things that you have at your home or your childhood home or your parents' home that make you feel good and feel happy.
>> So, they're not only physical things or or objects, right? They can be like your mom's cooking or maybe even just spending time with your family.
>> Right, or reading the newspaper with your dad or things that you're you're used to that you don't have anymore. And so, those are the comforts of home, I could say. Marco, do you miss the comforts of home in Ecuador? I mean, do you have anything that's really >> Of course, of course. I think uh one of the main things is actually not living in the city cuz I used to live in the valley, a little bit further away and kind of almost countryside, so that's one of the comforts of home that I miss.
>> You're making me nostalgic and I never even been.
>> [music] >> All right. Well, this is our next word, actually.
>> Right, nostalgic.
>> Nostalgic, it's a feeling. I'm feeling nostalgic or he's just really nostalgic.
>> Mhm.
>> And so, to be nostalgic is to kind of think about a time before or, you know, think positively about something that you experienced before. So, it's not usually a bad thing. It's never a bad thing. It's nostalgia is a good, warm, fond memory of something.
>> Of something from your past. So, you start thinking of something from your past that maybe brings uh nice, warm feelings, maybe a little bit sad because you miss those times, but it's usually thinking about the past.
>> All right. So, I have nostalgia for my childhood. I loved, you know, summers in Chicago and it was hot and the kids would play in the sprinkler and I had my dog and, you know, it you just it's a happy feeling.
>> Right. So, nostalgia would be the noun and nostalgic would be the adjective.
>> Exactly.
>> All right. And uh our last word for today on Language Takeaway is bummed out.
>> Bummed out, okay.
>> I'm bummed out.
>> another feeling here, so we're all full of feelings today. Bummed out is a sad feeling. So, to be bummed is kind of slang and it means to be sad. Mhm.
>> Okay, or disappointed.
>> Disappointed. So, you you come into the office, Marco, and you look a little tired. I say, "Are you okay? Are you bummed out about something?"
>> Mhm. I can say, "Yeah, I lost my wallet last night, so I'm really bummed out."
>> Aw.
>> Or something like that.
>> So yeah, you feel bummed out when something bad or sad happens to you.
>> Right. Mhm. All right, so why don't we move on now to a couple of different phrases on Fluency Builder.
>> Fluency Builder.
All right, this first one is something that you often say to old friends or family. You know, when you're friends with someone, they go through periods of happiness and sadness. And so, when someone's going through a down period again, you say, "Ugh, we've been through this already."
>> We've been through this already.
>> Or, you know, when you're giving someone advice and they never take your advice, you say, "Listen, we've been through this already. You should know by now that I and then, you know, whatever the advice is."
>> So, this has happened before or we have experienced this before or we already solved this problem or situation.
>> Right. You could imagine two bank robbers who are going over their plan for the 10th time and then the one says to the other, "Hey, we've been through this already. You should know the plan by now."
>> Exactly. All right, so we've been through this already. Um they were talking about the adjustments and everything. And then what other phrase did they use?
>> Well, the next couple of phrases have to do with the friend's suggestions because she has a lot of ideas to to cheer her friend up, the the depressed one. And the first thing she says is, "Hey, let's hit the dance club."
>> Okay, let's hit the dance club or let's hit the dance floor tonight.
>> All right, so a hit in this case doesn't mean like hit. It doesn't mean you're punching someone.
>> Uh-huh.
>> It means to go to or to do.
>> All right, so we can say, "Let's go to the dance club tonight. Let's hit the dance club."
>> Exactly. It doesn't have to be a dance club. What let's hit that concert tonight. Yeah, I really want to go there.
>> okay, so you can hit pretty much any place, right?
>> Mhm, exactly. And then this is a very kind of spoken language, so you wouldn't say this in your essays, but it's a good way to to talk about plans with friends.
>> All right. And our next word actually is kind of interesting because it's very colloquial and it's a wingman.
I can be your wingman tonight.
>> So wingman, you have to think about wing meaning side, not like a bird's wing. So a wing means side and a wingman is a guy who will go with you to a bar or a club to kind of help you find a a date or a girl or someone to talk to.
>> Okay, so this person, this wingman, usually keeps you company and helps you decide maybe what girl to talk to or maybe even introduces you to someone.
>> Right.
>> At a club or at a restaurant or bar or [music] whatever.
>> And you know, the key is that people don't like to go alone to bars, right?
Because you feel sad and then you're you look weird cuz you're all alone. And the same is true for girls. And so if a guy wants to go to a bar and he sees two girls, well, he has to have a friend to talk to the other girl.
>> Right, right.
>> So a wingman also helps in that sense.
He helps balance things.
>> All right, so there's a whole science behind the wingman.
>> Yeah, I'm sure if you look it up on Wikipedia, you'll find 10 pages of information.
>> All right, so since they are going out tonight, they say they could be boys night out.
>> Okay, so this is another phrase you hear all the time, especially among young people. Boys night out and girls night out. And so, you know, sometimes you spend a lot of time with your husband or your wife or your boyfriend or your girlfriend and you just want to have some time with your friends. And so you call this girls night, for me, girls night out. You just go out and you do girl things. Guys night out, you do other things.
>> Okay.
>> And so in this case >> only or guys only. Boys night out is only guys.
>> Exactly. And that's why this is funny because it's the girl who says, "Hey, let's have boys night out." And she is not really a boy.
>> [laughter] >> All right, great. And well, he agreed to go out and everything, but he warned her about him going on a drinking binge.
>> Okay, now this is important. A lot of people who are who are depressed or sad, when they drink, they drink a lot. And so binge [music] means to do something in excess, to do it too much.
>> Okay, so a drinking binge would be drinking alcohol in excess, too much.
>> Too much. So, getting drunk right away.
And uh it's not healthy, and we do not condone it.
>> Right. Exactly. Very good. So, some very interesting phrases in this dialogue today. Uh I think we should listen to it one more time, and we'll be right back.
>> Tom, how are you? Hey, we missed you at the party last night. Are you okay?
>> I don't know. I didn't really feel like going out. I guess I'm feeling a little homesick.
>> Come on. We've been through this already. Look, I know the adjustment was hard when you first got here, but we agreed that you were going to try and deal with it.
>> I was. It's just that the holidays are coming up, and I won't be able to go home because I can't afford the airfare.
I'm just longing for some of the comforts of home, like my mom's cooking and being around my family.
>> Yeah, it can get pretty lonely over the holidays. When I first got here, I'd get depressed and nostalgic for anything that reminded me of home. I almost let it get to me, but then I started going out, keeping myself busy, and before I knew it, I was used to it.
>> I see what you mean, but I'm still bummed out.
>> Okay. How does this sound? Let's get you suited up and hit the dance club tonight. I hear that an awesome DJ is playing, and there will be a lot of pretty single girls there.
>> You know, I could really go for that.
You don't mind being my wingman for tonight?
>> Not at all. It'll be fun. It will be like a boys' night out. Well, kind of.
>> Great. I must warn you, though. Whatever happens, don't let me go on a drinking binge. Trust me, it's not a pretty picture.
>> All right, we're back. So, speaking of homesick and holidays, do you actually get very depressed or homesick during Christmas?
>> I do. Uh Um well, my family has a lot of Christmas traditions that are just really kind of wonderful and we do them every single year. And so, the first time I spent Christmas away, I was I was living in Italy and it was kind of similar, but then the second time was when I was living in China. And China was just not the same. No oven, so no Christmas cookies. And no granny who, you know, pours vodka and eats meatballs. And like, my mom not running around kids.
And you just you feel lonely and then all of a sudden you get a phone call.
And it's the entire family and they're all together eating, having an amazing Christmas, and they think it's going to help you feel less homesick, but it makes you feel more homesick. So, [laughter] you definitely have have nostalgia for those days during the holidays. But, what about you?
>> Um I rarely get homesick, but yeah, sometimes during Christmas or New Year's. New Year's we usually have more unique traditions in Ecuador. So, it's very fun. The family gets together, we dance, we we eat. So, um but yeah, I've been away from home so long that I rarely get homesick anymore. But, it's great to go back and spend time with the family. So, after my visit to Ecuador, then I might get homesick for a little while, but then it goes away.
>> [laughter] >> Well, you guys should tell us, do you ever feel homesick? And if you do, what do you feel homesick about? What do you miss?
>> Maybe mom's cooking, maybe family, maybe the comforts of home.
>> Mhm. The rain had been falling for 3 days without pause.
The cobblestone streets of the town glistened like mirrors, and the rooftops dripped with heavy beads of water.
Most people hurried along with umbrellas or stayed indoors by the fire, but at the far end of a quiet alley sat a girl on a wooden stool, her knees tucked beneath her chin.
Her name was Layla.
She was small for her age with tangled black hair that often fell across her eyes and clothes patched more times than she could count. A battered satchel lay at her side filled with brushes and tiny jars of paint she'd collected over the years.
She could not afford canvases, so she painted on scraps of wood, broken tiles, even the side of abandoned crates.
But what set Layla apart from every other child in town was this.
The things she painted sometimes came alive.
It had started when she was seven.
She had drawn a bird with charcoal on the wall of her bedroom. And as she stared at it, the bird had tilted its head, ruffled its feathers, and let out the faintest chirp before fading back into stillness.
Layla never told her parents. They were too busy worrying about food, rent, and keeping warm through winter.
But the secret lived inside her like a flame.
And the older she grew, the brighter it burned.
Now she was 12. And whenever she painted with true feeling, when her heart ached or her soul longed for something, her creations shimmered for a few brief moments as if they had borrowed life from her imagination.
On this rainy afternoon, Layla sat hunched over a cracked wooden board she had scavenged from the trash.
She dipped her brush into a jar of deep blue and painted the sky she wished she could see.
Wide, clear, endless.
As her brush moved, she whispered softly, "If only the clouds would part."
When she lifted the brush, the painted sky shimmered. For a heartbeat, the rain seemed to slow. The clouds above trembled, and a sliver of sunlight peeked through.
But only for a moment. Then the shimmer faded, and the board was just a board again.
Lila sighed. She always wanted the magic to last, but it never did.
A voice interrupted her thoughts. That's beautiful.
Lila jumped, nearly spilling her paints.
A boy about her age stood at the mouth of the alley, his blond hair plastered to his forehead from the rain.
He wore a neat coat and polished boots, far nicer than anything she had ever owned.
Embarrassed, Lila hugged the board to her chest.
It's nothing.
Just a painting. The boy tilted his head. No, it's more than that.
I saw the sky change. You made it happen, didn't you?
Lila's heart thudded. Nobody had ever noticed before.
You must be mistaken, she said quickly, stuffing her brushes into the satchel.
Go home.
But the boy didn't leave. Instead, he stepped closer, lowering his voice.
I'm Thomas. My father owns the bakery near the square.
I won't tell anyone, but can you do it again?
Lila hesitated. She should refuse. The magic was hers alone, fragile and private. Yet something in Thomas's eyes, not greed, not mockery, but wonder, made her soften.
She dipped her brush again, this time into yellow, and painted a single flower onto the wet stone wall. The petals shimmered gold. For a few seconds, the blossom trembled as though touched by wind. Then it faded. Thomas gasped.
That's incredible.
You're like He searched for the right word.
Like a magician with colors.
Lila shook her head. "No, it's not real.
It never lasts." But Tomas smiled.
"Even a moment of magic is better than none."
From that day, Tomas began visiting her in the alley. He brought scraps of bread from the bakery, sometimes even sweet buns still warm from the oven.
In return, Lila showed him her world of paints.
Where she painted birds that fluttered, stars that twinkled, waves that rolled.
Each time, the shimmer was brief, but real enough to make Tomas laugh in amazement.
For the first time in her life, Lila did not feel alone.
But not everyone shared Tomas's joy.
One evening, as the sun set behind the rain clouds, the mayor of the town happened to pass through the square.
He was a large man with sharp eyes and a cloak that dragged across the ground.
He prided himself on order, on keeping the town neat and respectable.
So, when he noticed two children crouched in an alley laughing and painting on broken boards, his curiosity turned to suspicion.
"What is this nonsense?" he barked, striding toward them.
Tomas leapt to his feet, stammering, "It's nothing, sir.
Just drawings." But Lila froze. The brush slipped from her fingers. On the wall behind her, shimmered her latest creation, a painted horse rearing on its hind legs. The shimmer had not yet faded, and for one terrifying instant, the horse seemed alive. The mayor's eyes widened. He seized Lila's arm.
"Witchcraft!"
he growled. "Sorcery!"
Lila's chest constricted. "No, it's just paint."
But the mayor's grip tightened.
"You will come with me.
This kind of trickery cannot be allowed in my town."
Thomas tried to protest, but the mayor shoved him aside.
Lila was dragged through the streets as people turned to stare.
Her satchel spilled open, brushes and paints clattering onto the stones, but she could not break free.
That night, she was locked in a cold storeroom beneath the mayor's hall.
The door clanged shut, leaving her in darkness.
For hours, she sat trembling.
Was she truly cursed? Was her gift a danger?
Tears slid down her cheeks. For the first time, she wished she had never touched a brush.
But at midnight, a soft scratching sound woke her.
From the shadows on the wall, a shape emerged. A bird painted in charcoal, wings stretching.
It glowed faintly, then hopped down beside her.
Lila gasped.
"You You're one of mine."
The bird tilted its head as if nodding.
Then it fluttered toward the locked door.
Hope sparked in Lila's chest. She grabbed a piece of wood lying in the corner, dipped her finger into the last smear of paint on her sleeve, and drew quickly.
A key, golden and bright.
She focused all her longing, all her desperation into the lines. The key shimmered, then dropped into her palm.
Her hands shook as she slid it into the lock. With a soft click, the door opened.
The painted bird flapped its wings once more, then faded into nothing.
Lila stepped into the hallway, heart racing. She ran through the silent building out into the night. The rain had stopped at last, and the moon shown through tattered clouds.
She ran straight to the bakery. Thomas was waiting, as though he had known she would come.
His eyes widened when he saw her.
You escaped. Lila held up the fading golden key.
My painting saved me.
Thomas looked at her with awe.
Then your gift is not a curse.
It's a miracle. But Lila shook her head.
The mayor won't see it that way.
He'll come for me again. I can't stay.
Thomas clenched his fists. Then I'll go with you.
She stared at him.
You'd leave your home?
Your family? His eyes softened.
What is a home without wonder?
Without dreams?
For the first time in days, Lila smiled.
They left the town before dawn, walking along the muddy road with only the moon to guide them.
Days turned into weeks as they traveled from village to village.
At first, people were wary of the strange girl with her paints.
But when Lila painted their wishes, a lost lamb, a missing ring, a fading flower, and her creations flickered into life, their fear turned to gratitude.
Word spread of the girl who painted dreams. Yet the gift was not without cost.
Each painting left her weaker, her hands trembling, her vision blurred.
Sometimes she collapsed after giving too much of herself.
Tomas carried her brushes, reminding her to rest. But Lila worried.
One night, by the fire, she whispered, "What if one day the magic takes everything from me?" Tomas looked into her tired eyes.
"Then I'll still be here.
Because even if the paintings fade, you remain, and you are enough."
His words filled her with warmth, a deeper than any fire.
A month later, they reached a great city where rumors of her gift had already arrived. Crowds gathered to see her work.
Nobles begged for paintings, offering gold and jewels.
But Lila noticed something strange. The more greed filled the requests, the weaker her magic became. The shimmer lasted only a breath, sometimes not at all.
One evening, the king himself summoned her to the palace. He sat on a throne of marble, surrounded by guards and courtiers. His eyes gleamed as he said, "Paint me a future where my kingdom never falls."
Lila froze. "I I don't think I can."
The king's smile darkened. "You will."
She lifted her brush with trembling hands. But no matter how hard she tried, no image formed. Her heart was empty of such greed.
The courtiers began to whisper.
The king's face twisted with anger. "You are a fraud!" he thundered. "Take her away."
Guards seized her. Tomas shouted, struggling to reach her. But in that desperate moment, Lila understood.
Her gift was never meant for power or wealth or vanity.
It was meant for hope, for kindness, for love.
She dropped the brush and shouted with all her strength, "Dreams are not chains to bind the future.
They are wings to lift the present."
Her words echoed through the hall.
And then something extraordinary happened. The walls of the palace shimmered. Paintings bloomed across the marble, stars, rivers, forests, skies.
They were not hers alone, but drawn from every dream she had ever sparked in others.
Children she had helped, families she had comforted, strangers she had inspired.
Their collective hope poured into the palace, filling it with light.
The guards froze, their anger melting into awe. The courtiers wept. Even the king lowered his gaze, his pride crumbling before the flood of dreams.
When the shimmer faded, Layla stood trembling, but free.
She turned to Thomas, who caught her in his arms. Together, they left the palace.
Five years later, storytellers would speak of the girl who painted dreams.
Some said she vanished into the stars.
Others claimed she still wandered the world with her brushes, bringing hope wherever she went.
But Thomas, who walked beside her all his life, knew the truth.
Her magic was not in the paint, nor the brush, nor even the shimmering moments.
It was in her heart, the courage to believe that even a fleeting dream could change the world.
And though her paintings always faded, the hope they awakened never did.
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