I’ve moved two times before in my life. The first move was when I was really little. I was 4 when we moved to Nashville, Tenessee from Pasadena, California. The only thing I remember from that time was me eating half a dozen donuts and throwing up all over my 3-month-old baby sister on the drive there. When I think about moving now, it still kind of makes me want to throw up.
The second move was when I was ten, so I remember it better. We were moving to Vancouver, BC from Nashville. I didn’t like that move very much, considering I was leaving friends and a good school. At first I hated Canada. Luckily for me, we moved in the middle of the summer, so I did get to enjoy 2 months of decent weather before mother nature decided to start acting like a depressed teenager. And I did have to switch schools once until I actually made friends.
Slowly, though, I started to like Vancouver. I started to make friends and really liked living here. Thats why when my Mom just told me we were moving to Oregon, I just… I don’t know how to describe how I felt. Like, I felt like a little piece of me died, because I thought of all my friends I had to leave. My friends are really the only thing I’m going to miss, because quite frankly, the TV channels here suck, the weather is crappy and they don’t have Chipotle or California Pizza Kitchen. Awesome stuff, but my friends are more important. So I was sad when I first found out.
After feeling sad, I just felt really pissy. My initial thoughts were: why are my parents doing this to me?? and swear words. Because I really don’t want to move. I think my parents are being really selfish to me, because not only have they already made me do this once and made me leave everything, they’re making me do it again. It’s hard walking into a new school with a single drop of confidence in yourself. It’s hard making new friends in a completely unfamiliar place. It’s also hard when you have to leave all your friends and wonder every day what they’re doing, if they miss you or if they’re forgotten about you.
Now I just feel depressed. Every day I’m reminded of all the things I’m going to miss about Vancouver that I’ve never even thought about in the three years that I’ve lived here, but I’m also reminded by my buggy parents of all the good things I’m going to have in Portland. I still haven’t decided on if I’m going to have my friends TP and paintball my house so the people who come to look at it hate it so we can’t move.
I know I’m supposed to see the positive side in everything, but honestly, the only positive thing I can see in moving to Portland is becoming a hipster.
Featured image via my tea cupp prayers