Let's rewind to January 2013, when I almost died choking on my Hot Cheetos as I saw my phone vibrate with a pounding heart, the screen clearly telling me the call was from Massachusetts. Could it be...? No way. Minutes later, I ran down and said, "Mom, I'm going to Boston!" Yells of congratulations filled the kitchen, and all I could think was: "I'm finally leaving this small California Asian town."
Stage 1: Feeling Different
On graduation day, people wished me luck. Thinking that I wasn't attending some typical University of California like the majority of my graduating class, I was smug; I felt special.
I was excited! My loved ones weren't. They showed excitement, but I noticed the shadow that crossed their faces, which left as quickly as it came. Somewhere deep down, it bothered me, but I ignored it.
Stage 2: Is This Really Happening?
Two weeks before the big move, I remember my mom avoiding my questions about what I should pack as she sadly asked, "Are you that excited to leave?" My brother insisted we play one more game of Mario Kart: "I have no one to beat anymore when you leave!" (Thanks, dude) My grandma continued to fatten me up as much as she could... My friends threw me a goodbye party. Soon, I was on a plane, and I watched as the lights of CA disappeared underneath the night clouds. 
My mom came with me, but no tearful goodbye hugs or kisses were in order. At the time, I didn't really care. All that mattered was I was in Boston. I would see her in four months, I thought.
Stage 3: The New Friends, the Freedom, and Adjusting
Classes began and I, a Pre-Med freshman, worked my butt off. I befriended all kinds of people. Some asked if I knew how to surf or if I met celebrities. One time, annoyed, I said I saw Angelina Jolie and the dude got excited until I said, "At the Hollywood Wax Museum." I asked questions back, continuing to absorb the city life. But I adjusted quickly and taking the subway/bus became easy. I quickly became desensitized to the constant whine of sirens and honking. I realized how out of shape southern Californians must be, when I found myself panting while walking because I was so used to being in a car. For once, I began seeing guys that weren't Asian, and proudly told my friends back home.
It occurred to me that Mom wasn't there telling me I can't stay up past 12, or that I can't snack at night. For the first time in 18 years, I didn't have a curfew. I woke up late on the weekends. I ate all the chips I wanted. I cussed freely like no tomorrow. I absolutely enjoyed the freedom. My mom was too far to even know I was breaking her rules.
But then, what I knew as boba, Bostonians called it "bubble tea", what I called water fountain, they claimed it a "bubbler". I found out instantly people weren't friendly here, that there wasn't really an autumn, that people laughed when I complained about the "cold" 55°F. I experienced the joy of my first snow, but I missed the sun. I began to feel an emotion I'd never felt before....
Stage 4: Homesick
One day, it just hit me. I wanted to go home. Dorothy's words and her red slippers never felt so true in my life until that day. "There's no place like home." I looked at pictures of home, only making it worse. I didn't eat that day. As if my mom could sense something, she called me, and as I struggled to keep a firm voice, I said I was fine. Lies, I told myself. Just tell her you miss her. Too late, she hung up soon after. I went to a nearby study room and cried. "What was I doing here miles away from home? Why didn't anyone stop me?!" For a crazy second, I almost bought a ticket home. Stupid, I thought. You wanted this, don't regret it now!
The cold made it worse. Whenever the ice-cold wind blew, I bitterly thought of palm trees, the beach, the sun. I got tired of burgers and pasta. Pasta! My favorite food and I got sick of it. I wanted rice and Korean barbecue, and wished In-N-Out would just magically appear. I missed my best friend.
Stage 5: Acceptance and Becoming a Bostonian
Schoolwork required serious attention as we reached mid-semester and I pushed away my homesickness to a different compartment. I managed those feelings in the shower.
I dealt with the weather, the struggles of studying, and the never changing dorm food. I reminded myself that this is what I had wanted: To escape the bubble I grew up in, to live in a diverse community during college education. Winter break came sooner than I thought, and my friends asked if I missed CA. I admitted that I did. "Do you regret it?" I told them I didn't.
Stage 6: The Lesson
I learned a lot during my first-semester being thousands of miles away from home. I learned more my second and third year when I lived in my first apartment, dealt with bills, cooked meals for myself, and even trapped a thieving kitchen mouse. I understood that Mom wasn't always going to be there. I was really growing up. Sometimes, loneliness consumes me, but I'm reassured with the messages and calls from family and childhood friends. Yes, it sucks being away from home and having to adjust to a whole different environment. I believe; however, that had I not attended school in Boston, far from the safety of my comfort zone, I would not be who I am today. I have definitely matured a lot sooner than my friends who stayed behind in CA (no offense, guys), in certain aspects. But, I do envy them for having the luxury of being a drive away from home. The lesson: There really is no place like home. 
