Hearing the words "we're moving" can be either a gut-wrenching, thrilling, or exasperating change to process. From my perspective, it was all of the above. I learned of this news over dinner, with only 43 days to prepare. Oddly enough, it was very hard to stomach (pun intended).

Moving to my hometown 15 years prior wasn't our decision to make, yet it's only now that I've realized how blessed we were to be placed there, for reasons I may never tell. While I was very happy with our surroundings, these house conditions weren't the preferred standards of living my parents envisioned.

Their only motive to stay had been the education system the town had to offer, which I would go through from kindergarten to my senior year of high school.

Beyond that, I knew the idea of a different home would slowly become more of a reality. But to happen only a year after graduation? It felt just a tad bit sudden, to say the least.

For those who have had the fortunate opportunity of never experiencing a family move, think of it as a home invasion, in several aspects.

You'll have filled-to-the-brim trash bags scattered about, spilling out contents of old preschool crafts and remnants of your favorite childhood toy sets. Boxes upon boxes of current household items, holiday decor, your mother's old grade school report cards, and your grandfather's stacks of Playboy magazines from the 50's, which somehow survived countless trips to Europe and back again last century.

Several moving companies will take a walk through of your home to assess the space, and describe how much of a fortune it will cost to move furniture alone. Strangers will ring the doorbell to come to retrieve items your parents put up on online garage sales.

And, as a cherry on top of the cake, your parents may suddenly decide that, in fact, your bedroom can double as a storage room of all the packed boxes waiting to be carried to your future humble abode. In their minds, you're just the kid, so why would any of this be a problem, right?

For a solid month, I could barely live in the comfort of my own home without knocking into a stack of bins or hearing the painful ear-shattering noise of our tape gun wrapping up cardboard boxes. Every free moment in our schedules was consumed by packing, a process I thought was neverending but did come with benefits.

Several family members and friends were around to help with the carrying of boxes, packing up items we had yet to touch, and bearing the sweltering heat through it all. They were able to take my mind off of the harsh tasks of moving as we cracked jokes and took many ice cold water breaks to soak in (pun not intended this time) all the hard work we had accomplished.

And, of course, the promise of a new bedroom and seemingly larger living space, an outcome that would satisfy both myself and my parents.

In preparing to move, I had little knowledge of how annoying, time-consuming, and stressful the process would be. While looking back on my levels of stress and anxiety, I can only imagine the feeling my parents were under, having to deal with every little technicality.

My dad would continuously tell me that moving is the most stressful thing anyone will ever have to do in their life. As much as it pains me to say it, he was right. No matter the responsibilities you have to ensure your move is smooth and steady, there are always several tasks at hand waiting to be accomplished.

If you have the right people surrounding you, and don't let the stress get to your head the way you think it can, moving can become an adventure as opposed to a tedious chore. The outcome of a healthy new home is the light at the end of the tunnel.

Just keep moving forward!