2027 College Guide: Curing Island Fever

Attending college in Southern California has brought new experiences, homesickness and perspective.

Re-creating my mom’s steamed eggs proved harder than I thought. The recipe wasn’t complicated: equal parts egg and chicken broth, whisked until combined. I didn’t have a steamer, so I improvised, balancing the bowl on top of a smaller bowl inside a pot and covering it with a lid. Soon, I’d get a taste of home.  

But as I lifted the lid, the silky custard I remembered was nowhere to be found. Instead, the eggs had turned into a lumpy, chunky mess that looked nothing like my mom’s. Still, I ate the imperfect re-creation in my dorm kitchen, hoping it might bring a small semblance of home. 

But three months into my new life, the novelty of college started to fade, replaced by an ache for home.

Throughout high school, I was set on leaving O‘ahu after graduation. My life in Honolulu felt claustrophobic and repetitive, as if I had already experienced everything the island had to offer. In 2024, I finally flew to Southern California for college, chasing new places, people and versions of myself I had yet to uncover. 

At first, college life felt exactly as I had imagined. Weekend road trips, seeing my favorite artists in concert, stopping at restaurants I’d only ever seen on social media—they were all within reach. Between classes, friends and campus activities, I hardly had time to think about home. I went nearly a month without calling my parents. There was simply too much to do. 

But three months into my new life, the novelty of college started to fade, replaced by an ache for home. I started noticing everything California wasn’t. The beaches were gray with water too cold to swim in, and dining hall meals paled in comparison to my mom’s cooking. My thoughts swirled around what I had left behind, especially my best friend, who was more than 2,000 miles away. As I dwelled on memories of home, I struggled to invest in the life I had hoped to build in college. Sitting alone in my dorm, I wondered if I had made a mistake. Maybe I didn’t belong here after all. 

So I turned to the one person I knew could help: my mom. When I told her I felt like I’d made a mistake, she calmly reminded me that while staying connected to home mattered, so did finding my community in college. 

I joined my university’s Hawai‘i club, which introduced me to others who understood my affliction. Together, we missed the feeling of Hawai‘i: the comfort of Spam musubis, warm beaches and how conversations between strangers flow easily.  

As I head into my third year of college, I now understand that Hawai‘i and California are not separate worlds, where you have to let go of one to embrace the other. Home isn’t something you just leave behind. It stays with you no matter how far you travel. That doesn’t mean you’ll never be homesick. I think I’ll always prefer watching the sunset at China Walls than Newport Beach. But the answer isn’t to stop missing home. It’s to find ways to bring it with you, whether that’s being part of a community, calling your parents, or even making your mom’s steamed eggs.

Kayla Luke Colon, the 2026 summer editorial intern for HONOLULU Magazine, is a journalism student at UC Irvine.