Some of you may already know a little bit about this, but for those of you who don’t, let me tell you a little bit about what my childhood was like. My father was (still is, kinda) an employee of the US State Department Foreign Service. What this meant for us was that every 3 – 4 years, our family would pack up our house, say goodbye to our friends, and move. Usually to somewhere across the globe.
Canada, c. 1993? 94?
So, the short story is, I lived in a lot of places. The long story actually tells you what those places were. Sooo, starting chronologically we’ve got…
Vancouver, British Columbia, Canada
Falls Church, Virginia
Ottawa, Ontario, Canada
And finally, I’ve resettled back in Falls Church (for now).
Reston, VA, 1995?
Whew. Granted, not nearly the same amount of moves that your average military family has to endure, but I think the varying continents helps draws additional points in my favor. And of course, the bonus of LIVING in these kinds of places is that you get to TRAVEL to even MORE places. I’ve been to Palau, Thailand, Italy, France, Germany, the Caribbean, and all over the United States (including Alaska and Hawaii!).
I actually have no idea when or where this was taken, I just love it so much.
Now, as an (almost) adult who is (somewhat) level-headed and can objectively appreciate all of the amazing opportunities I was given by living overseas, I can of course say that I had an incredible childhood. But, as a 5-, 9-, 13-, and 16-year-old? The appreciation was, um, let’s say, a little less blatant (er, sorry again, mom and pops). I had a pretty hard time adjusting each and every time we moved, and even though I would never have gotten to do a lot of pretty flippin’ awesome things if I hadn’t lived overseas, the leaving, the saying goodbye, the packing up and taking off part… it was always very hard.
Poland, 4th grade (98?) and apparently NOT HAPPY WITH THIS CLASS PRESENTATION.
But, I adapted. Because you have to. And I still had my family with me every step of the way, and I made new friends every place I moved to (and kept in touch with a few of my old friends–but you have to remember that the internet was juuuust becoming a thing during a lot of these moves, haha), and obviously, I turned out okay. And because of this particular experience–moving, which can be hard enough when you’re just moving houses or counties, let alone entire continents–I used to pride myself on my adaptability. My ability to cope with change. I even wrote my college admissions essay on it (it was quite moving, I assure you).
Falls Church, 5th grade (1999)
Falls Church, 6th grade (2000)
So by the time I was leaving in 2004 to move from Taiwan to Canada for my senior year of high school (yeah, I will say, moving right before your senior year definitely blows) I was actually pretty okay with it. Moving from the states to Taiwan in 2001 had been a horror story I’m sure my parents NEVER want to retell, so I was determined to be a lot, well, better this time around. And similarly, when it was time to graduate high school and move to college, I was pretty used to it. I was sad and would miss my friends, of course, but my adaptability kicked in and things clearly turned out okay in the end. And I really loved that super-adaptable part of my personality.
Unfortunately, the older I get (and yes, I know I’m hardly an age that qualifies as even being considered “old”, but I am indeed older than I was before) the less adaptable I become. I used to pride myself on not only dealing with, but embracing change, move to a new place, get a new job, find new friends, change my hair, take up a new hobby, whatever–all with the snap of my fingers. But now? The very concept of moving exhausts me. I think about chopping off my hair without warning (like I’ve done a zillion times in the past) and I start to hyperventilate. And I think about all the various ways that this year is going to change my family dynamic–my brother’s wedding, my sister’s baby–and I start to feel a little uneasy. Not because those latter things are bad–just the opposite! They are AWESOME things that I really can’t wait for (you should see the baby shower plans we have to celebrate that little fetus, hehehe). But, the fact remains that they will also change a lot of things. I mean… I may or may not have cried just a little when I realized that this past Christmas was “The Last Christmas” our family would be spending as a whole, same-generation unit. (Oh, believe me, I know how that sounds. I’m emotionally unstable. Just roll with it.)
Jenny’s Rehearsal Dinner, 2008
I think part of it is honestly that even with all the moves and plane rides and whatnot, the one thing that has remained pretty much CONSTANT through it all is, well, my family. So things that threaten to change our family dynamic (even in positive ways!) make me more anxious than other kinds of change. I know that probably sounds weird and selfish but, hey, so am I.
JMU Graduation, Harrisonburg, 2009
So, I’m trying to re-teach myself how to adapt. To look forward to the wonderful things that change brings, instead of focusing on what it, uh, changes. heh. And I’m making myself remember that none of the great experiences in life ever came from standing still.
Do you consider yourself an adaptable person? Or do you struggle with change?
PS: I have literally never had more fun picking out photos for a post than I did for this one. Awkward child, me? No waaaaaay.