I have always told myself that I was strong and could withstand the worst this life has to throw at me. So far I have about a million points and the world has zero because eventually I always make it through but sometimes I get knocked down flat on my back and as I lay there breathless I can see the world spinning and collapsing. My parents' divorce made the world spin faster than I had ever seen it spin.

I don't even remember how old I was... I think I was in about 7th grade when it was announced what was happening. I remember that feeling of dread... that feeling that my entire world was crashing down. I was old enough to know what the word "divorce" meant but young enough so that I had no idea what came next. Were we still a family? Why don't my parents love each other? Why can't they just pretend to be happy so we don't have to be looked at weird when we go into the grocery store? I had so many questions... I wish my parents would have just sat down with me and told me what "divorce" actually meant. It did not mean that the world was going to be different, just this part was.

I moved out with my mom and my little sister in a cute little house in the middle of town. My dad worked crazy hours so for a while, we would see him for a couple hours every other Tuesday and Thursday until 8 and then spend the weekend with him every three weeks or something. I don't remember exactly, but I do know how incredibly tired I became of packing a bag. My dad got a new job and his hours changed so my parents went back to court to change when we got to see him in the papers... I never thought I'd have to say "when I got to see my dad". It wasn't like we didn't get to see my dad if it was out of these times but... kinda. In my head, we should have all still been living together and loving each other like any other normal family. But we weren't normal and that feeling became more and more clear every passing day.

Always having to move around and the fact that both of my parents were working so hard to make things as easy for us kids as possible. My older brother wasn't really affected. He was old enough to be moved out and doing his own thing so the who's day/weekend it was, wasn't really for him. But this meant I had to step. I had to grow up and take responsibility and for a little while I kind of resented my little sister and it showed. I was tired of taking care of her. I wanted to go out with my friends not babysit. This has changed now, but for a long time, I just didn't want to be around her.

Things got better. We got a better schedule split between my parents. It was something like Tuesdays and Thursdays until 8 and then every other weekend. Better. But not normal. I got into high school and soon my friends and I started driving. I will never EVER enjoy the phrase "So, which house am I going to? Mom's or dad's?" uhmm... home... which one?...which one was home?...everyone always says home is where the heart is but at that point my heart was at school because there I could escape the chaos that came from trying to figure out who's weekend it was. And again so many questions came that I never really got the answer to.

In my later years of high school my dad and mom figured out yet another schedule and we did a week at my dad's then a week at my mom's then another week at dad's and so on and so forth. It was easier but again, I can't express the hate I had for always having a bag packed. My little sister once said, "It's like a long sleepover!" She was little and optimistic ... and I wasn't feeling it. The question "where is home?..." still rang in my ears and I was so angry that I couldn't hear the answer-I didn't really want to either. How could they do this to me? Make me feel like an outcast because to me it seemed like everyone else around me had the happy "perfect" family. They at least lived with both parents in ONE house. I let the anger take over for a long time.

Now that I am in college and have had more experience in this whole "life" thing I'm slowly starting to piece things together. My parents deserve to be happy too. They shouldn't have to suck it up and live together for the sake of me not having to decide which house my friends were going to pick me up at on Friday night. They were happier apart. And that's okay. I know now that they do still love each other. They do still care. They show me this by both always sticking by my side even if it means the other one is already there and setting aside their differences to give all of us kids the absolute best they have to offer. My questions are slowly starting to get answered as I figure out a little bit more about myself and about how life works.

Coming home for breaks still proves to be challenging. Where do I go? Who do I stay with and which parent do I only visit? And when my friends want to hang out while I'm home, which home do I tell them to go to? It's getting easier as both of my parents have started dating again (wasn't easy at first, let me tell ya...) and I can see how much happier they are now than back then. I don't blame them, I just want them to know that I was watching. That I am watching. I came to the realization the other day as I was having another meltdown because school was overwhelming me that I will ALWAYS need my mom and dad. Whether it be to call and hear them tell me that I'm okay or to send $20 because I'm tired of Ramen and microwaveable mac n cheese.

This mental breakdown was the first time I realized where "home" was, I think. Because home no longer was a place. I didn't want my dad's entertainment system, I wanted him. I didn't want my mom's cozy quarters house, I wanted her. See, 'home' was not a place. It was a person. Or, better yet, two people. Three, four, twenty people. I no longer cared where I was, I just wanted a hug from someone familiar. A hug from home.

The divorce made me grow up and face the harsh realities of life a little earlier than most people had to. But I'm not sorry for this. I'm not throwing myself a pity party. Because look at who I have become! I am SO strong and I'm SO proud of who I am. My parents taught me how to be that when they had to figure it out for themselves again too. And now, I know more about life than most people in their 40s do. So, thank you, mom and dad, for choosing happiness. And for showing me what it truly means to be strong.