"I Want to Go Home": Dealing with Relocation Stress

February 11, 2026

When someone living with dementia says, "I want to go home," it can be one of the most heartbreaking and frustrating things for a carer to hear—especially when that person is already sitting in their own living room. It’s natural to want to point at the furniture or the photos on the wall to prove they are home, but logic rarely works in these moments.

In 2026, our understanding of dementia care has shifted away from "correcting" reality and toward "validating" emotion. When a person asks for home, they aren't usually looking for a specific physical address; they are looking for the feeling of safety, familiarity, and belonging that "home" represents. This guide is designed to help you navigate these repetitive and often distressing conversations with practical, calm strategies that prioritize the person’s emotional well-being over factual accuracy.

Table of Contents

• Understanding the "Home" behind the word

• Why logic fails and validation works

• Practical phrases to de-escalate the moment

• Creating a sense of place through sensory cues

• Knowing when to distract and when to listen

Understanding the "Home" behind the word

When a person with dementia says they want to go home, they are often using the word "home" as a metaphor for a state of mind rather than a physical location. To help them effectively, we first have to decode what they are actually trying to communicate. In many cases, the request is a response to a feeling of vulnerability. As the brain loses its ability to process current surroundings, the world becomes a strange, unpredictable, and sometimes frightening place.

"Home" represents the last place they felt in control, recognized, and safe. By understanding the underlying drivers, you can respond to the need rather than the literal request.

The loss of environmental recognition

One of the most common reasons for this distress is agnosia, a condition where the brain can no longer interpret sensory information correctly. Even if they have lived in their current house for twenty years, they may no longer recognize the wallpaper, the smell of the kitchen, or the view from the window.

• The "Unfamiliar" Home: To the person with dementia, they are standing in a house full of strangers' belongings.

• The Search for the Familiar: They are often longing for their childhood home or a previous residence because those memories are more deeply "wired" into their long-term memory than their current environment.

• Disorientation: If they cannot map their current surroundings, their natural instinct is to "leave" to find somewhere that makes sense.

Emotional triggers and the need for security

The phrase is frequently triggered by a specific emotional spike. If the person is feeling tired, hungry, in pain, or lonely, they will reach for the concept of home as a remedy for that discomfort.

• Anxiety and Fear: When the world feels chaotic, "home" is the universal shorthand for "safe."

• The Need for Purpose: Sometimes, "I want to go home" actually means "I have things to do." They may feel they need to go home to cook for their parents (who may have passed away years ago) or get ready for a job they no longer have.

• Social Isolation: Even if people are around them, a person with dementia can feel profoundly alone. Asking for home is often an attempt to reconnect with people who truly knew them.

Identifying the "Time Version" of home

It is helpful to try and identify which "home" they are talking about. Are they looking for the house they lived in as a young parent? Or are they eight years old again, looking for their mother?

• The Childhood Home: This is usually about a desire for protection and being cared for by an authority figure.

• The Adulthood Home: This is often about a desire for autonomy, being the "boss" of their own space, and having a role to play.

By recognizing that this is an emotional SOS rather than a geographical request, you can stop the exhausting cycle of trying to prove they are already home. Instead, you can focus on providing the comfort they are actually seeking.

Why logic fails and validation works

When a loved one insists on "going home" while standing in their own hallway, our first instinct is usually to provide evidence. We point to the family photos, the familiar cat, or the deed to the house. However, in the world of dementia care, logic is not only ineffective—it is often the quickest path to an argument that nobody can win. To help someone find peace, we have to stop speaking to their intellect and start speaking to their emotions.

The "Logic Trap" and why it backfires

Logic relies on a functional short-term memory and the ability to process facts. Dementia systematically dismantles these cognitive tools. When you try to use logic to convince someone they are home, you are inadvertently highlighting their disability.

In 2026, we recognize that "Reality Orientation"—the old practice of forcing people to face the facts—frequently does more harm than good. When a person’s brain tells them, "I don't recognize this place," and you tell them, "You've lived here for thirty years," they don't feel corrected; they feel gaslighted. This creates a barrier of distrust. Furthermore, pushing facts onto someone who cannot process them causes "cognitive overload." Their inability to understand your explanation can lead to a "catastrophic reaction," which is essentially an emotional meltdown born from sheer frustration.

The power of Validation Therapy

Validation is the practice of acknowledging the person’s feelings as their true reality. Instead of focusing on the fact of where they are, you focus on the feeling of what they are saying. If they say they want to go home, they are feeling unsettled. If you validate that feeling, the need to "leave" often dissipates because the emotional itch has been scratched.

• Agreeing with the emotion: You don't have to lie and say, "The car is out front," but you can say, "I can see you’re feeling a bit lost right now, and you want to be somewhere familiar. I feel like that sometimes, too."

• Entering their timeline: If they are looking for their mother, they are likely in a headspace where they are a child. Asking them, "Tell me about your mum, she sounds like a wonderful lady," validates their current reality and provides comfort without a single argument about the calendar.

• Reducing the "Fight or Flight" response: Validation lowers the heart rate and reduces cortisol. When a person feels heard and understood, their brain shifts out of a defensive state, making them much more open to staying where they are.

Shifting from "Correction" to "Connection"

The goal of any interaction regarding relocation stress should be connection. When we correct someone, we are asserting power over them. When we connect with them, we are standing beside them.

• The "Yes, and..." technique: Borrowed from improvisational theatre, this involves accepting what the person says and adding to it. If they say, "I need to go home to cook dinner," you can say, "Yes, you always make sure everyone is fed. What were you planning on cooking?" This keeps the conversation moving forward rather than hitting a brick wall of "No, you aren't going."

Ultimately, you must listen for the "Why" behind the words. Instead of preparing your rebuttal, listen to the tone of their voice. Is it panicked? Is it bored? Is it sad? Your response should match the emotional weight of their request. By letting go of the need to be "right," you gain the ability to be supportive. Validation doesn't mean you are losing your grip on reality; it means you are kind enough to visit theirs for a while to help bring them back to a place of calm.

Deconstructing the "Why" behind the words

When we choose a specific phrase, we are trying to solve a neurological problem. In dementia, the amygdala—the part of the brain responsible for the "fight or flight" response—often becomes overactive, while the frontal lobe, which handles logic and reasoning, is compromised.

If you say, "You are home," the brain perceives this as a conflict or a threat because it contradicts their sensory input. By using the phrases mentioned previously, you are performing a "neurological bypass":

• Diffusing the Alarm: When you say, "I can see you’re feeling unsettled," you are signaling to their amygdala that you are an ally, not an opponent. This stops the production of adrenaline.

• Validating the Identity: When a person wants to "go home to cook," they are often expressing a lost sense of utility. By asking about the meal, you are affirming that they are a provider and a person of worth. You are addressing their lost role, which is the true source of the pain.

• The "Vagus Nerve" Connection: A calm, slow response doesn't just provide information; it helps regulate the other person's nervous system. If you speak with a "logical" or "corrective" tone, it often carries an edge of frustration that the person with dementia picks up on instantly, even if they don't understand the words.

The ethics of "Therapeutic Fibbing"

It can feel incredibly uncomfortable, or even patronizing, to tell a "white lie" to an adult. However, in the context of 2026 memory care, we view this through the lens of beneficence—acting in the person's best interest to prevent unnecessary suffering.

Consider the "Truth" vs. "Kindness" dynamic. If you tell someone their mother has been dead for thirty years because that is the "truth," you are forcing them to grieve that death as if it happened for the very first time. Their brain cannot retain the fact, but it will retain the trauma of the grief.

By saying, "The traffic is bad," or "It's too late to travel," you are providing a temporary, low-stress reason that allows their brain to "reset" without the heavy weight of a permanent "no." This isn't about tricking them; it is about protecting them from a reality they can no longer process or cope with.

Shifting the focus to "Reminiscence Therapy"

The reason we suggest asking about the kitchen or the garden is based on the "Relic of Memory" principle. Long-term memories are often the last to be affected by dementia.

• Accessing the "Comfort Zone": When you ask someone to describe their childhood home, you are moving them from a state of high-cortisol "searching" to a state of high-dopamine "remembering."

• Sensory Grounding: Asking about the smell of the kitchen or the color of the door helps the person "ground" themselves in a mental space that feels safe.

• The Result: Often, after five or ten minutes of deep reminiscence, the person feels so emotionally satisfied by the "visit" to their old home that the physical urge to stand up and leave vanishes. They have reached "home" in the only way their brain currently allows.

By understanding these mechanisms, you aren't just following a script; you are consciously choosing to lower the person's stress levels and meet their emotional needs where they currently live.

Creating a sense of place through sensory cues

When the brain can no longer rely on memory or logic to define "home," it leans heavily on the five senses. Relocation stress often occurs because the environment feels "sterile" or "alien." In 2026, dementia-friendly design emphasizes that a home isn't just a layout; it is a collection of sensory anchors that tell the brain it is in a safe, familiar territory.

By strategically using sight, sound, smell, and touch, you can "signal" to a person’s subconscious that they are exactly where they belong, often bypassing the need for a verbal explanation entirely.

The visual landscape: reducing "Environmental Static"

For someone with dementia, visual clutter can look like chaos. If a room is too busy, or conversely, too bland (like a hospital wing), the person may feel like a transient visitor rather than a resident.

• Personal Landmarks: Place highly familiar, high-contrast items in the line of sight. A specific bright-colored cushion or a well-loved quilt shouldn't just be in the house; it should be in the person's primary "landing zone." These act as visual anchors that say, "This is your chair."

• Lighting as a Guide: Dim lighting or shadows can be misinterpreted as holes in the floor or "intruders" in the corner, triggering the urge to flee. Using consistent, warm lighting—especially during the late afternoon "sundowning" hours—can help maintain a sense of calm and spatial awareness.

• Removing "Exit Triggers": Often, the sight of a coat hanging by the door or a set of keys on a table is the visual cue that triggers the thought, "I should be leaving." Keeping outdoor gear tucked away in a cupboard can prevent the impulse to go home before it even starts.

The power of "Olfactory Grounding" (Smell)

The sense of smell is more closely linked to memory and emotion than any other sense. This is because the olfactory bulb has a direct connection to the amygdala and hippocampus. You can use this "fast lane" to the brain to create an atmosphere of security.

If "home" to them smells like lavender, baking bread, or a specific brand of soap, using those scents can physically lower their heart rate. It is much harder to insist you are in a "strange place" when the air smells exactly like your own sanctuary. Introducing these familiar scents through diffusers or actual activities (like folding laundry warm from the dryer) can ground a person in the present moment.

Auditory comfort and the "Sound of Home"

Silence isn't always golden; for some, a silent house feels empty or abandoned. Conversely, a TV blaring news or loud commercials can feel like an invasion.

• Familiar Soundscapes: Playing soft music from the person's "formative years" (typically between ages 15 and 25) can trigger a deep sense of belonging. This is known as the "reminiscence bump," where memories from this period are most resilient.

• Sound Masking: If the person wants to leave because they hear distant traffic or neighbors that they don't recognize, using a white noise machine or a recording of birdsong can mask those "alien" noises and create a private, controlled environment.

Tactile familiarity: The "Touch" of belonging

Our skin is our largest sensory organ, and for many people with dementia, tactile stimulation is a primary way of interacting with the world. Providing "fidget" items or fabrics with familiar textures can provide a sense of comfort that words cannot.

A heavy weighted blanket, a smooth wooden worry stone, or even the repetitive motion of sorting through a box of familiar fabrics can provide "proprioceptive input." This helps the person feel more "inside" their own body and less like they are floating in an unfamiliar space. When the body feels grounded and comfortable, the mind is less likely to wander toward the exit.

By layering these sensory cues, you are effectively "painting" the environment with the feeling of home. It’s about creating a space that doesn't just look like a house, but feels like a refuge.

Knowing when to distract and when to listen

The final challenge in managing relocation stress is the "art of the pivot." There is a fine line between ignoring someone’s distress and helping them move past it. As a carer, you are essentially a lighthouse keeper; your job is to guide them through the fog without being swept away by the storm yourself. Knowing when to sit in the sadness with them and when to gently change the subject is the hallmark of expert care.

The "Listen First" rule

Before you attempt to move someone away from the door or change the topic, you must give them a moment of undivided attention. If you jump straight to distraction, the person may feel dismissed or ignored, which only heightens their desperation to leave.

• The 90-Second Rule: Often, an intense emotional peak lasts about 90 seconds. If you can stay completely present, maintain eye contact, and listen to their desire to "go home" for just a minute and a half without interrupting or correcting, the physical intensity of the feeling often begins to subside on its own.

• Active Listening: This means more than just being quiet. It involves nodding, mirroring their facial expressions, and saying things like, "I hear you," or "I understand why that’s important to you." Once they feel that their message has been received, they are much more likely to follow your lead.

Transitioning to distraction

Distraction—or "redirection"—is most effective when it feels like a natural extension of the conversation rather than a sharp turn. If you try to distract someone with a jigsaw puzzle while they are crying for their mother, it will feel jarring and patronizing.

• The "Bridge" Activity: Use a bridge to move from the emotion to a task. If they want to go home to "check the post," you might say, "That’s a good idea. While we wait for the postman to finish his rounds, could you help me sort through these photos? I can't remember who this is."

• Sensory Shifts: Sometimes, a change in environment within the house is enough. "I hear you, and we’ll look into that. But it’s getting a bit chilly in this hallway—let’s go into the kitchen and see if we can find something warm to drink."

• Physical Engagement: Giving the hands something to do often calms the mind. Sorting coins, folding towels, or even shelling peas are "procedural memory" tasks that feel productive and can quietly replace the "task" of trying to leave.

Recognizing the "End of the Road"

There will be days when nothing seems to work. The person may pace, cry, or become agitated despite your best efforts at validation and distraction. In these moments, it is vital to remember that you cannot "fix" dementia.

If the person is safe, sometimes the best thing you can do is simply be there. Sit on the floor with them by the door if you have to. Hold their hand. Don't try to change their mind or their mood. This is called "presence," and in 2026, we recognize it as one of the most powerful tools in a carer's kit. Your calm presence acts as a tether, keeping them from drifting too far into their fear.

A Final Thought: The Journey is Internal

Ultimately, "I want to go home" is a request for love, for recognition, and for a world that makes sense. You may not be able to take them back to the house they grew up in, and you may not be able to fix their memory, but you can provide the feeling of home in the here and now.

Home isn't always a place with a roof and four walls. Sometimes, for a person with dementia, "home" is simply the face of someone who understands their heart, even when their brain is lost. When you respond with patience instead of a list of facts, you are giving them the sanctuary they are looking for. You are the home they are searching for, even if they don't always know your name.