Home not so sweet anymore

Originally published in 2013.

Dear Annie: I’ve been studying abroad in Rome for the past three months. I head back to the U.S. in a few weeks. I can honestly say I haven’t missed being home. I’ve loved my stay in Europe. I feel safe and happy.

The one thing I’m dreading is reverse culture shock. I’m afraid I’ll resent my small-town college or that I’ll become depressed when I get home. All of my friends will have left for their own study-abroad adventures. No one will be able to speak the Italian I’ve learned and help me maintain my fluency. The food and pastimes that I’ve become fond of are nonexistent in the U.S.

How can I learn to stop living like a dead man walking and not fall into a pit of despair once I board the plane “home?”

Pining for Rome

Dear Rome: Please recognize how fortunate you are to have had the opportunity to spend time in Europe and the fact that you’ve enjoyed it so much. You will miss your Italian friends and the pasta, but try not to over-romanticize the experience. How well you adjust depends entirely on your attitude. Be determined to make it as positive as possible.

Dear Annie: I have a problem with my parents’ decorating habits. They insist on putting up artwork that I did when I was a child. The dining room, living room and bedrooms all have pictures I drew or painted from the time I was six until I was 17. I have repeatedly asked that they remove them, but they say they can’t bear to take them down. Mind you, they have no such pictures from my sister’s childhood. In fact, they don’t even display pictures their grandchildren have drawn. My father insists on telling people I am an artist. At one time, I wanted to be, but now I am a high school teacher and proud of it. How can people take me seriously after talking to my parents? What do I do?

Not an Artist

Dear Artist: So your parents think being an artist is ever so much more glamorous than other professions, and they prefer to fantasize about your job. Your attempts to force them to change will only make all of you miserable. Who cares what their friends think? As long as you conduct yourself appropriately and correct any wrong impressions, no one will mistake you for a nineyear-old with fingerpaints. We know it’s annoying, but please try to ignore this.

Annie’s Mailbox is written by Kathy Mitchell and Marcy Sugar, longtime editors of the Ann Landers column.