Change is a terrifying experience for most. Many fear the unknown others fear leaving the past behind. For me, it was both of these things. I remember very distinctly the time when I was seven, and was faced with the challenge of having to move to a different school.
"We're moving to a brand new, very big house!" My mother had announced at the dinner table. I stopped chewing, not quite understanding what she meant. "Moving?" I asked, "Why are we moving? I don’t want to leave all my friends behind!" My sister complained along with me, but our attempts were futile. I stared at the worn, beige walls as a warm tear trickled down my cheek. Could this be happening? I ran to my room in a rush, almost slipping on the newly waxed oak hardwood floor. I slammed the door and buried my face in my pillow, telling myself that it was just a dream, and when I woke up, everything would be fine again. But deep down inside, I knew what was to come was, in fact, inevitable.
The next couple of weeks were hell for me. Every day, I would arrive at school, eyes red, puffy and swollen from crying the night before. My friends were the only ones that brought comfort to my seven year old self because it felt like my world was falling apart.
The day had finally arrived. I said goodbye to all my friends and my house. The familiar creak of the floor boards whenever I stepped over them, the white window seat where I would read every evening, the sweet smell of the flowers that grew outside of my window every spring, would all be lost forever.
I walked out the door to meet my family when I saw my best friend Iris running towards my house. She came up to me, handed me a letter and said, "Read this whenever you miss us, and remember to come back to visit. I'll miss you so much." Tears filled both of our eyes and I gave her a final hug before getting into the car. Goodbye familiarity. Goodbye life as I knew it.
When we finally arrived at the new house, I refused to go inside until my mom forcefully pulled me in. The smell of the newly painted walls filled my nostrils. I walked up to my room, and to my surprise, my dad had painted my room a bright, beautiful pink. "Just like your old room. right?" My dad smiled. I gave him a big hug, feeling a little better about the treachery to come tomorrow - school.
The nest day I had to go to school. I got out of the car and walked into my new classroom. The chattering of the excited children filled the room. "Hey, it's a new girl!" Someone said as they pointed at me. The class fell silent as sixty, curious eyes turned to look at me. Sweat ran down my next as my face flushed tomato red. The teacher, Ms. Barstow, walked over to me with a warm, welcoming smile as she introduced me to the class.
My seat was beside a girl, Taylor, who instantly greeted me with a cheery smile. I smiled back but didn't say a word, as I had always been an extremely shy child. The rest of the class passed by slowly. Each second felt like minutes. Each minute felt like hours. Everyone was really friendly to me, trying to get me to talk, but I was too scared, and out of my element. I put up a wall between myself and everyone else because I was afraid: afraid to let others in; afraid to make myself vulnerable. I didn't want to make friends that I could lose again, and plus, they wouldn't be my old friends.
Recess time came. I walked out alone, just as the November wind blew by, blowing the mitten I had been holding, out of my hand. It blew around the corner, and I chased after it. As I neared the corner, I saw Taylor, mitten in hand. She held out the mitten towards me and said, "Here you go." She smiled. "Do you want to play with us?" I pondered, then decided to go with her. Taylor made me feel wanted, and special. Slowly, I started to open up more each day. As the days went by, I met more people and made new friends. Although I missed my old friends, I knew this is where I belonged now, and I was welcomed and accepted.
Through this experience, I learned that change is not always such a negative thing. Granted that it may seem like a very terrifying thing, but in reality, it is just a part of life. Sometimes, it is these changes that shape who we are, and holding onto the past will only leave us alone and miserable. Opening myself up to change has led me to new, lasting friendships, new experiences, and becoming a happier person overall. Heck, some of the friends that I had made back in that grade two classroom are still good friends of mine! This experience has taught me a valuable lesson in maturity and how to handle these inevitable changes that we will all experience sometime in life. Change is inevitable. Misery is a choice.
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