Personal Narrative: Moving Away From Home

As a teenager, I had overestimated myself, thinking my capacity is unlimited. Yet when encountered by an overwhelming state, I crumbled to carelessness. I am glad to recognize my faulty character early on rather than ten years from now when there will be greater tasks at hand. Even though the temptation to take on challenges never cease within me, I have learned to evaluate the current responsibilities and my capacity to take on new roles. Having less obligations but being successful in all of them is what I now thrive to do. With a new academic year, I turn my focus towards my course works for improvement, but also place my core value of family in volunteering at a hospital devoted to cancer patients, while continue taking care of my own

During high school, I struggled to maintain my grades and focus. I was in a small town, and every ounce of opportunity seemed to slowly be sucked away from the town as the years past with the aid of the downward economic spiral beginning. I felt, like many of my fellow classmates, that opportunity had passed us by. I didn’t dare conjure even the thought of attending Eastern; it would’ve been too similar to the

It had been along time since something new had entered my world. Amongst the ruins of our space elevator, I sat, head bowed, and payed my respects to a whole civilization lost. The rusted steel and crumbled mortar only amplified my grief. Rotating my mandibles I rose, and scuttled out into the hive proper, or what was left of it. There used to be noise, movement all accross our home, the workers furthering the goals of our Mother, the advisors contstatly planning our expansion into all of the fertile worlds of our system. Now, as I move through the entrance mound, there is only silence, and the sound of my chitin clicking harshly against the floor, echoing in a way I had once found eirie.

People often hear or maybe seen on the news of houses being broken into. We do our best to protect ourselves and our families from the unenviable happening. We have locks, we purchase alarm systems and other forms of defense to keep strangers out and our possessions in. When I woke up on Tuesday, April 6th, 2011, I never imagined someone would come inside of my home and ramble through my things and take from me whatever they wanted. If I could have seen into the future, I would attempt to change the minds of the guys who broke into my apartment.

The aspect that related to me the most this week was the chapter on relocation. My relocation was actually pretty self-centered in that I wanted to be close to my family after having a child. I remember growing up in Kankakee and coming back for a year after undergraduate studies and having big dreams for the city of Kankakee, but none of these dreams were involved with my decision to move back. When Perkins opens up with the chapter of relocation there is a statement that stood out to me in regard to this matter. “Of the three R’s that anchor the guiding philosophy of the Christian community development movement, relocation is clearly the most distinctive and troublesome.” (Perkins, 75) Relocation to the Kankakee area was easy, because

“Can we talk about moving to Minnesota?”, my father would ask. “I don’t want to, ” I’d always responded. This lasted for four years, my father always looking towards the future, my future, but never willing to press me towards the opportunities he saw. I had friends, an expansive yard where I could play, take pictures, observe the wildlife, a quaint home in a quaint neighborhood attending a quaint school in northern Mississippi, and each time the question came up, a feeling of fear welled up as I thought about how different it would all be, really the complete opposite: a rural home to a suburban apartment, a school with fewer than a thousand students for grades K-12 to one quadruple the size, a world with friends, one without. Eventually, after my eighth grade year, I let in to my father and allowed logic to clear the emotions that

Jessica just moved out of her hometown to move to Florida. Her mother enrolled her to a local High School from where she lives. She was very excited to go because she wanted to make new friends and have a fresh start. She is very pretty and outgoing so she instantly made friends and had got the attention of almost all the football team. Katie the caption of the cheerleader did not like her because she thought Jessica was going to take her boyfriend. She told her friends to tweet about Jessica and say mean stuff about her so Jessica can move back. Her friends listen and told other people to say bad things about Jessica. People soon stopped hanging out with her and she was devastated. Everyday their will be people commenting and saying hurtful

In the summer of 2008, my family moved into Laurel, Maryland. An old friend of my father invited us to come over to his house to meet each other's family and talk about old times. Their family wasn't big compared to our family; I have 2 brothers and 2 sisters while he had 2 daughters. His daughters invited me and my siblings to play soccer in their backyard. We agreed without hesitation. We couldn't split into even teams since it was 7 kids playing. So we decided that me and my older brother would be a team since we had more skills in the game. It was an extremely competitive game between us, I was pushed to my limit when suddenly I saw a stream of lights flicker throughout my eyes and collapsed. My initial reaction was to breath, but my

Moving to a different area that is larger can be difficult and frightening all at the same time. When I was fourteen, I moved from my small town, Glasgow, to a big city known as Columbia. Not only did I move to an unfamiliar city; however, I moved in with a man who had a similar appearance like me. He had the same brown hair, brown eyes, tan skin, even our noses were the same. Be that as it may, this man was not unfamiliar to me because I had seen him in many pictures with me. Although I did not personally know him, my mother said that he was my father. As I began packing, I sat on my small twin size bed and started to wonder how my mother could just let me go. I was leaving my home that I had been use to for a long time with a strange man

The story of my thirteen-year-old-self offered readers a glimpse of the lowest point of my life; However, it was not the only time I felt discouragement. In Fall 2014, my mother ended up losing her job due to disability. We had to move into a dangerous neighborhood. All our lives, my mother worked hard to prevent us from residing in neighborhoods that could potentially harm us. I can recall the face she wore when she realized moving to a lower-class area was the only solution to our problems. She did not say it, but I can tell that she felt like she failed us. I patted her back the entire ride to our new home for reassurance. When we reached our destination, my stomach tied up in knots. There were dozens of people around the neighborhood

Getting a ride back was more trouble than it was worth, but Regan had gotten good at public transit, even if her prior experience before moving to the city had consisted of the school bus. Having a car again would be nice, someday, but now it was an expense of it in the city was one she didn't need. For now, there was PT, Uber, a taxi or friends when public transit or her feet didn't suffice. Her mind was filled with thoughts of Power Exchange and the shoot, and, of course, Matt, enough that she had no exact memories of the faces traveling alongside her, save that a couple had mistaken her inner smiles as outwardly directed, but a quick, distracted wave, a 'don't mind me' shrug, and she had made her escape, her sneakers (her heeled boots now residing in her shoulder bag) making little rubbery thumps upon pavement and grate while she hurried.

It sucks to leave your family/ friends and going to someplace else where you don’t know much about. When I had to move to US from my home country. I thought it wouldn’t be this hard to adjust, but little did I know it was tough to make friends and get used american lifestyle and life in general. I didn't know how to act certain people at certain time and greetings. Having my cousin helped me a bit in school work, but most of the times I had no one who I could go to and speak my mind and get a help. Somedays I would just get mad at my parents and take my frustration out on them, since they were the ones who decided to move here.

Being Adopted For being only 18, I have had to face many challenges in my life, but the most significant one to me has been being adopted at the age of three. “Family is not defined by our genes, it is built and maintained through love.” (Amalia G.) Even though adoption comes with challenges such as adapting into a new home, being separated from siblings, and dealing with biological parents, I truly believe these moments are worth overcoming to find happiness. One of the struggles I faced at three years old was adjusting into a new home. I was moved in and out of foster care since I was born, so I found it very hard staying in one house. When I was placed with my adoptive parents, I did not know how to act or behave. I was a wild and rambunctious

Everything seems like it’s falling out of place, it’s going too fast, and my mind is out of control. I think these thoughts as I lay on my new bed, in my new room, in this new house, in this new city, wondering how I got to this place. “My life was fine,” I say to myself, “I didn’t want to go.” Thinking back I wonder how my father felt as he came home to the house in Stockton, knowing his wife and kids left to San Diego to live a new life. Every time that thought comes to my mind, it feels as if I’m carrying a ten ton boulder around my heart; weighing me down with guilt. The thought is blocked out as I close my eyes, picturing my old room; I see the light brown walls again and the vacation pictures of the Florida and camping trip stapled

Looming in front of me was something new, a fresh start. Despite being this, it seemed cold and trying, something that sent shivers down my spine. Mixed emotions of uncertainty and optimism had filled my first day of middle school; and as my final year is drawing to a close, I realize that this place-this transitional time in my life- is something that I never want to leave. I created a home away from home, and a family, over the short three years spent learning here. Each school year, from first to concluding, brought new experiences in which have altered my life. These are the things that I am hoping to carry over into high school-my next chapter. Every experience in which middle school has brought leaves me changed indefinitely, shaped for the future ahead.