The Person I am Now

Considering my age like to think of myself as a well-traveled person. I've lived in three continents and approximately six cities. I've met people from all around the world, and befriended people from Finland to Nigeria. To me, this doesn't seem exotic or strange at all. I met a girl once who moved every year, and a handful of others who shared similar experiences like me. I've always grown up in safe environments and been blessed with a certain freedom that may not come across odd to some people, but still all the same something I am grateful for. Let me explain -- at the age of eight I could walk to the grocery store (with a friend of the same age) without having to worry about my security.

But that's not what meant to write about. Through all my travels, I've taken a different role as the person I am. Between the ages of five and nine, I was carefree and boisterous with my friends, but shy around teachers. Nevertheless, I was happy for the most part, except for a couple days when I felt down I guess, and loved the outdoors and wilderness and just the adventure of it all. 

Then when I turned ten things started to go downhill. I moved away from my adventure, towards a storm -- a beautiful picture, but a chaotic mess once you're in the heart of it. My happy days became limited to the weekends when I hung out with my friends outside of school and attended piano lessons. I struggled to make friends and when I finally did, lost them for a reason I'm still not completely sure of. I know what you're thinking: so what, you were ten, your problems are nill compared to half the lives on this planet. And you're right. My ten-year-old problems are nothing comparable to those of the suffering and needy. But all the same, to me, my world was crumbling. 

Then, BOOM. One plane ticket later and I was pulled out of the storm, the memories of the bright nine year old I once was still close to me. I became sad, becoming even more shy than I was before. I struggled to make friends and almost never spoke. I remember feeling as if I was living someone else's life, taking someone else's role. But that wasn't the case. I was the one changing.

Years would pass when I would look back at my nine year old self without envy. Years would pass before I finally felt like myself. I had my own group of friends. I was involved in clubs. My life was as good as it could be.

And then, a couple month after this, made the choice of my own to move again. I wanted to test myself -- was I ready for being the "new girl" all over again? And to be honest, I still really don't know. Yes, I feel more confident then ever, but I'm still not completely sure of the person I am now. 

And I guess that's all that's left for me to find out.