Change. A word that excites some, plagues others, and is often a combination of both. Whether the new environment one is placed in is desired or dreaded, the process of transition and adjustment is a harrowing one. There is no set process proven to provide for an easy, smooth transition into a new place—in fact, at times it seems like nothing will patch up the emptiness and loneliness that rests at the pit of our stomachs. Although it has been deemed that “change is good,” we cannot always be convinced. If one has never been through a monumental change of environment, it is hard for him or her to understand the emotional toll it can take on the individual going through it. As a product of constant change, I am here to write the truth about my life as the New Kid.
All I see are empty walls and a scratched up wooden floor. I shiver with the air-conditioned breeze, yet my palms continue to sweat. The nausea comes in waves, yet the fear lingers. The image of my dad pulling out of the driveway haunts me, knowing that I have to face my life here alone. Trapped in the unknown, I find myself in a new room, a new house, a new school, a new state, and a new city. There are no friendly faces, no girlfriends to take drives with, no brothers to watch movies with, and no man to hold on to. They tell me to break free, to pave my own path to happiness, yet I find myself locked within these four empty walls.
The comfort has been torn from my grasp. As I travel on to foreign sidewalks and hunt for new chai teas, I cannot help but long for the past. I miss the morning trips to the local deli, the potholes covering Main Street and the towering white library. I miss my noisy neighbors and the smells I have become so accustomed to waking up to. I left for a reason, yet in this moment in time I cannot figure out why.
In this crowd, I have never felt so isolated. The room fills with laughter and chatter, yet I remain here in the corner- unattended to and overwhelmed. I wonder if I’ll ever become one of them, or if I even have that option. I make conversation and smile, but no matter how hard I try, I feel like I’m unworthy. When they invite me out, I accept, yet cannot shake the feeling that I’m invisible. They look at me, yet it seems as if they're looking through me, unaware of the person I have become. There is no one to cry to, no one to laugh with, and no one to share my secrets with. I long for my old friends, wishing that at any point they would show up and save me from my despair. No one here really understands.
They say that soon enough, all will improve. They’re right. The streets are no longer unfamiliar, the conversations have deepened, and a slight weight has been lifted. I have filled these empty walls with pictures and paintings that bring me the comfort of home, even if it’s not entirely realistic yet. I chose to open up my mind, and with that, my outlook on the life I’m living has evolved. While I still feel lonely at times, I know that I will always find my way back to the ones who love me. I’m not trapped—in fact, I am the wings to my own prosperity. Change is an everlasting test, and contains no right or wrong answers. Even when I feel lost, alone, and stuck, I know that the strength to overcome lies within me. Time heals all wounds, and I will remain standing tall until I reach the happiness I deserve.
When you look back and find the girl who just transferred on the couch all alone, ask her if she wants to sit with you. When you meet the new guy who just started working in the same building as you, invite him out for coffee. All we want is to feel included and worthy, and small gestures to make us feel welcome go a long way—trust me. A little bit goes a long way.
