My first time moving Essay

Moving can be a scary experience, especially for me because moving requires change and at the time I didn't like change very much. One of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do was accept that we were moving. In my defence, I’ve never experienced change in my life. I was born and raised in the same city, lived in the same house. I had lived my whole life in that house and I did not want to leave what I had always known. In 2009, when I was 8 years old, I had experienced change for the first time; we were moving homes. Change requires leaving something behind and embracing something new. I wasn’t ready for that. I was always afraid of moving houses but I thought maybe it was time and that it may have been a good thing. The reason we had to move was because we needed more space after my little brother was born. My parents had always talked about getting a new house but I never thought it would happen and when it did, I wasn't happy about it.

The day had come, and it was time to move. I woke up that morning only to find the moving trucks outside our house. Everything seems like it’s falling out of place, it’s going too fast, and my mind is out of control. The day I had moved away, I had a lot of things going through my head. After taking one last look at my home, all the great memories and all the fun times I had with my family and friends came back to me.

During the day, while we were moving in, I had all these thoughts about what it was going be like, “Am I going to like it?” “How different is it going be?” “Is it going to be scary?”. I didn’t know what to expect. The day had passed and it was time to sleep but I refused. Although my parents tried to convince me it did not work. With tears dripping down my face I begged them to take me to my grandparent’s house and at this point they couldn’t say no. On my way to my grandparent’s house, I felt some relief knowing I wasn’t sleeping in my new room tonight.

After a week, I still hadn’t slept in my new room. I don’t know why but something about it was preventing me from sleeping there. I would beg and cry for a week straight to say at my grandparents house. My parents ended up getting annoyed of this behaviour and got mad at me, but my grandparents didn't mind since they loved having me over. After a long talk about it with my cousins, and a lot of forcing and begging, I came to my senses so my parents came to pick me up. My grandparents were sad that I had to leave since they got used to me around the house but it was time for me to grow up and accept that change is a part of life and growing up. Still feeling the grief of

having left so much behind, I lacked the ability to show enthusiasm for this new place, it just did not feel like home and it smelt like paint.

After a few weeks the new house was starting to feel like a home. My room no longer smelled like paint, but of familiar, comfortable scents. Now that I am older, i'm glad that we did move here. Not long after moving, i really loved my new home, but i couldn't let my parents know especially after all the begging and crying i've done.. Life was starting to feel right again. Was it worth it? I mean, I did end up getting used to it used to it at some point.

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