In the blink of an eye, your whole life is packed up in boxes and shipped away. You walk around your once vibrant bedroom that held so many memories, bare like you never lived there. As the movers pack up the rest of your belongings in a truck, you take one last look at your house and say goodbye. Now you look forward to a new adventure, continuing your life somewhere else.
In my life, I have moved a total of three times. Once, when I was very little my parents moved to a bigger house a couple of miles away. The next move was when I was in 5th grade and we moved from our house in Katy, Texas, a small town outside of Houston, to Missouri. The third move will take my family back to Texas. I want to talk more about the second and third moves and how they affected me.
I can remember the last day at my old elementary school in Texas. I was in math doing a worksheet when the classroom door opened and my parents stood in the doorframe. My mom was crying and my dad had his hand on her shoulder. All of a sudden my whole class ran at me saying how much they were going to miss me. My class made a goodbye card and all my friends wrote notes and left numbers, promising to stay in contact. I gave my math teacher a hug and I left with my parents.
After leaving the school, we went to my house where we had to make sure everything was finished and packed up. Since our house was already sold, we had to stay at a hotel for the night. The next morning we got up to drive to my aunt’s house to say goodbye. It was hard saying bye to my family. I was still unsure about moving states away from all of my family and friends.
The beginning stages of adjusting to Missouri was chaotic. I was still in 5th grade and I was terrified to be a new kid. I was scared that no one was going to like me and think I was weird. March 4th was my first day at Duello Elementary and I was nervous beyond belief. I didn’t make many friends on the first day, let alone the rest of the year. The last day of school came and went and I was looking forward to summer. My family came up during the summer and I was so happy. It’s hard living so far away from your family, and when you get to see them twice, maybe three times a year, you miss them a lot more.
The rest of elementary school went by in a haze, 6th grade was the year COVID-19 began. When we finally went back to school, 7th and 8th grade was up and down. I still had trouble making friends, and when I did, something would happen and they would leave. I wouldn’t say I was 100% happy that I lived in Missouri for the first couple of years, but I was getting used to it.
My family would always go down to Texas during Christmas time. I missed my family and wished they lived closer but I also didn’t want to move back to Texas right away. When high school came around, I was happy living in Missouri. I was finally used to being here and I didn’t want to move in the middle of high school. I had friends and classes that I loved taking. So when my dad mentioned moving to San Antonio, I was very upset and emotional.
On one hand, I couldn’t wait to move back to Texas, more specifically San Antonio. My family would be only an hour or two away. Every restaurant that is only in Texas, I could enjoy again. But on the other hand, I was doing great in Missouri. The classes I was taking were amazing and I didn’t want to leave my school again. I always told my dad that I didn’t want to move in the middle of high school. When he told me that it was official, I slowly felt my world come crashing down. But now that I had some time to take in the news, I’ve been looking at this move with an open mind.
Becoming the new kid again will be a struggle at first but I think I can face it with a better attitude than when I was in 5th grade.
In a couple of months, a moving company will come and pack up my belongings. I’ll walk around my room that has been stripped clean, remembering the good, bad, and the ugly. Now I look forward to a new adventure, continuing my life somewhere else.
