Moving again... This work is considered exceptional by our editorial staff.

May 31, 2012
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There are nomadic tribes in Africa that move less than I do. I’ve lived consecutively in Texas, Georgia, Arizona, California, Texas, Connecticut, Virginia, Connecticut, New Hampshire and Connecticut. The last three moves, I was told, would be the last. But, soon enough, eight months to two years later, “Girls, we are moving.” If there is one phrase I choose never to hear again it would be, “We are moving”.

I loved each place I have lived for different reasons. I felt at home in Texas. I lived about half an hour away from Disneyland in California. New Hampshire is so beautiful in the fall. Virginia is close to D.C. and, being a history buff, I loved all the free museums. Georgia is where my sister was born and where I met my first best friend. Arizona is where I learned to speak fluent Spanish, a skill which I promptly lost by age eight. But Connecticut, where I am currently living, is where I have made some of the best memories. I have made great friends, lost some not so great ones, gone through the drama of high school, met my favorite band and got my first job. I love it here.

I haven’t had a classic suburban childhood. I don’t have a door with marks showing my growth over the years. My room isn’t painted some obnoxious shade of pink I chose when I was seven. I haven’t known my best friend my whole life. I sometimes see people with these things and think, “Wow. You are so lucky. I wish I had that.” But then I come to my senses. I may have spent my whole childhood moving around, making friends only to lose them a year later, but I have visited places that some people dream about. If I never lived in California, would I have been able to visit Disneyland almost every weekend during the summer? Probably not. If I hadn’t lived in Virginia, would I have been able to feed my love of history by visiting the museums in D.C. many times during the summer? No. Would I have been able to visit the Alamo if I hadn’t moved to Texas? No way! I have experienced many things that many seventeen year olds cannot say they have experienced.

I often find myself dreaming of my future. I imagine what it is going to be like being married, having kids or being a teacher. Whenever I dream about the far away future, like kids or marriage, I often wonder if I want my kids to have the same experiences I did. The simple answer would be no. I want my kids to have stability and be able to call one place their hometown. But I want my kids to have the same cultural experiences I did. I want them to be able to say that they lived and experienced all different parts of America. I want them to be able to boast to their friends that they went to Disneyland most weekends during the summer when they were seven. I want them to be able to say they have friends in all different parts of the country. I want them to have all of the great experiences that I had. I think that anyone could benefit from moving to all different parts of the country. It is truly a wonderful learning experience.

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