If you’ve stumbled upon my blog, welcome! Here, you’ll find my virtual journal filled with my thoughts, advice, and stories. For my first blog post, I thought that I would introduce myself through my upbringing. I grew up in a smaller town and lived in the same house my entire life, until recently when my parents decided to sell it. Since then, I’ve been doing a lot of reflecting on my upbringing and the experience of moving away from home.
The Baby of the Family
Being the youngest child, I watched my older siblings grow up before me. If you are also the youngest child, you know the feeling. Each time a sibling left for college the family dynamic shifted a little in our home. I longed for the days when it would be my turn. I remember counting down the days until I turned 15 and ½ so that my mom could take me to the DMV to take my permit test. I was so eager to experience everything my siblings had experienced. I was still in high school when my siblings were starting their own lives after college. I really cherished those last few years at home, and I find myself thinking about them often. My parents have worked tirelessly to provide each of us with the opportunity to lead a fulfilling life. I have always had an admiration for my parents. Growing up, they served as excellent role models, showcasing what a loving relationship should entail. I believe that their strong bond has acted as the unbreakable glue that has held our large family of six together. All of the moments spent together as a family came rushing back to me when my parents made the decision to sell our house. It was during this time that I also reflected upon all the sleepless nights I had in the house, torn between wanting to grow up and simply being a carefree child.
Being a Carefree Child
As the youngest sibling, I had to learn how to develop thick skin at an early age. I was always the one who got picked on the most by my siblings. Being the child who had to take naps in the car while my mom played chauffeur for my older siblings, shuttling them between school, extracurricular activities, church, and errands, I quickly learned that time was precious. When I was around 5 or 6 years old, my mom would dress me in a cheer uniform so that I could cheer on the sidelines with my older sister while she cheered for my brother during his football games. But to be honest, most of the time, I preferred sitting in the bleachers and enjoying a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Eventually, my parents realized that cheerleading wasn’t my thing, so my mom gave me the choice between dance and gymnastics. I chose gymnastics, and it became my passion throughout elementary school. I loved the thrill of flipping around and being a powerhouse in the gym. During this time, my mom took me to see the Nutcracker a few times, which was a special treat. However, by the time I reached middle school, my passion for gymnastics had faded, and I found myself yearning to dance like the ballerinas I saw in the Nutcracker. From then on, dance became my new passion, from middle school all the way until I left for college. It became my emotional outlet, allowing me to express myself through music and create art through movement. In addition to my recreational activities, I was fortunate enough to learn to play the piano and the electric guitar. Sometimes I wish I had continued my musical education, but life took me on a different path.
Moving Away from Home
From a young age, I had a clear vision of what I wanted to become when I grew up: a teacher. Every day after school, I anticipated coming home and transforming my bedroom into a pretend classroom. In the final year I spent at home, my focus seemed solely fixated on one thing – college. When I received an acceptance letter from one of my top-choice schools, there was no doubt in my mind that I would accept the opportunity to finally fulfill my lifelong dream. When preparing to leave for college, I attempted to bring my entire bedroom’s worth of belongings with me. Unfortunately, they couldn’t all fit in the car. Nevertheless, the car was still packed to the brim. Change has never been something I readily embraced, and the thought of starting a new life in a different city away from my family filled me with anxiety. I also couldn’t help but feel a tinge of sadness at the thought of leaving behind the life I had known thus far. It was a big life change, yet one that has taught me a valuable lesson – change is never permanent, and it will always be a part of life’s ever-evolving cycle.
Life’s Ever-Evolving Cycle
No one really talks about the amount of reminiscing that happens when you move away from home. But I know that I’m not the first person to experience this. Moving away is just a part of life’s continuous cycle. I always knew that I wouldn’t live at home forever and I’ll always have the memories I made with my family while growing up. My upbringing has played a significant role in shaping the person and aspiring teacher that I am today. I never liked change, but moving away from home has actually given me the confidence to embrace it. Ultimately, I owe a lot to my parents for helping me get to where I am now. As I am in the middle of finishing my last year of college, I thought it was time to dust off this blog and start sharing my thoughts, advice, and stories. My hope is that you will stick around for more blog posts to come in the future…
No responses yet