My First Hard Day in San Sebastián

Content note: homesickness, loneliness.

Yesterday was my first hard day.

Nothing dramatic, just the darkness that moves in quietly and sits heavy on your chest. The novelty of my beautiful new home slipped for a moment and I felt it. The distance from home. The newness of everything. The ache of not yet belonging. Feeling defeated and overwhelmed by everything.

I kept thinking, you worked so hard to get here, why does it feel so wobbly today?

What actually happened

A series of small things that added up. My bank card was cut off in the middle of a purchase. I could not understand the clerk well enough to explain why. I missed a bus and then got on the wrong one. The appointment portal would not accept my document number. I learned that I need an appointment to get an appointment. My phone map wouldn’t load when I needed it and I didn’t know where I was. I was still in pain from a dental procedure weeks ago. The sky was gray. Everything was starting to feel hopeless and my brain turned up the volume. Every little task felt bigger and less manageable than it was.

I am learning Spanish and I will find my footing, but yesterday I could not catch the rhythm of the words. I can’t understand anyone. I smiled more than I spoke. I nodded when I wanted to ask a question. I’m not sure how to order or what the proper customs are. I felt the gap between what I meant and what I could say. I kept reminding myself that every culture has its own map and I am still learning the lines.

What caught me off guard wasn’t my frustration, but the loneliness underneath it. It was the quiet realization that no one here knows me yet. My humor doesn’t translate. My accent stands out. The ways I usually reach for connection feel muted. That kind of alienation settles into the body slowly. It sits in the chest, in the shoulders, in the breath.

My mind races. Decision fatigue sets in. Simple choices like cook or go out and study or rest feel like pop quizzes. It feels like there are consequences, even when there aren’t. I knew it would pass, it always does. Sometimes it just feels unbearable.

What helped

Naming it out loud. I said I am lonely, and it loosened its grip. I recognize that the feelings I’m having are completely normal after what I just did: move across the world to a place I’ve never been, where I know no one and don’t know the language.

So I did a small loop outside. Ten minutes of walking. Fresh air. People with places to be. It reminded me that I am in a real life and not only a to do list.

I had planned to go sightseeing, to keep moving, to distract myself with something beautiful. Instead, I stayed in. I made something simple to eat, sat on the edge of my bed, and looked out the window for a long time. Outside, the city moved easily through the day. People were walking, laughing, living. I watched them and felt both far away and quietly proud of myself for stopping.

For a while I just let the ache exist. I didn’t try to fix it or reframe it into gratitude. I let myself feel the weight of it and trusted that it would pass. And somewhere in that stillness, something inside me softened. I realized that belonging is not something you can rush. It unfolds slowly, moment by moment, through repetition and care.

Maybe today was not a day for landmarks after all. Maybe it was a day for learning what it means to be gentle with myself in an unfamiliar place. To listen inward. To honor the fact that rest can also be a form of courage.

This feeling will not last forever. The rhythm of a new life always begins unevenly. But even here, in the hard moments, I can already sense that I am growing roots. I am learning how to meet myself again in a new language, a new city, a new rhythm. And maybe that is its own quiet kind of arrival.

What did not help

Doom scrolling. Pretending I was fine. Trying to plan my entire future at ten at night.

The story I almost told myself

That I made a mistake coming here..That everyone else would be thriving by now. That because this is a dream I am not allowed to have hard days. None of that is true. Hard days belong to real dreams too.

Notes to future me, and maybe to you

Do the next kind thing. Drink water. Open the window.
Find a small thread of routine. A morning stretch. An evening walk. One sentence in Spanish.
Text one person who loves you and one new person you are getting to know.
Remember why you came. My origin story is here.

If you are having a hard day too

You are not failing. You are adjusting. If you need practical help and you are also moving to Spain, a few guides live here. Start at my Start Here page and take what helps.

Thank you for being here for the honest days as much as the highlight reel. I am still glad I came. I am still in motion.

xoxo, Mel

Gentle reminder. I am sharing personal experience, not professional advice. If you are struggling with your mental health, consider reaching out to a licensed professional or a local support line.