I moved away from New York(Queens to be exact) when I was 15 years old. To date this was the hardest transition I ever had. I moved to Charlotte, North Carolina. A beautiful, just rural enough place where we could have a gorgeous house and much , much more for the money my father was so diligently making. I understand this now, as an adult. As a teenager, I was pissed. The self absorbed me only saw all that I was losing, not what really there was to gain. My parents tried to give me everything to make me happy. Free reign on decorating my new (huge) room, a car was promised on my 16th birthday(they delivered, as promised a brand new car) and whatever else I asked them for . They were guilty and I was inconsolable.
When I started school that fall (10th grade) life did not get any better. these kids were friends since Kindergarten, just like I had been with my Queens friends. They didn't need any outsiders. Especially one with my Fran Drescher accent(gone now thank God) and really big Aqua Netted hair. The Charlotte girls wore clothes from Benetton (a very preppy store) and their hair was mostly blonde and sleek before blonde and sleek was in. Think Reese Witherspoon in Legally Blonde but without the briefcase...I was into really tight acid washed jeans, wouldnt be caught dead in a polo shirt(still won't) and my hair was 12 inches high on a good day. I also was mad at the world, which did not help matters in the "wont you be my friend " department. So high school for me, for lack of a better term, sucked. I had a few friends, they were also transplants from other states and mostly mad at the world too. Soon as college time came I moved away, and never looked back. That is until now. Now that I have a 10th grader.
About a month ago, my husband came home and said we had an opportunity to move to california. One of his dealerships was opening up there and he could request a transfer. He and I talked about it, for about 60 seconds. he is a native Floridian, so he couldnt leave, ever. His whole family is here. I had different reasons for not wanting to go. I saw the town and the houses in it and they were beautiful. Picturesque and just rural enough...sounded familiar.But i remembered how it felt to be told we were leaving, and to be 15 and starting from scratch in the friend department was never something I intended on inflicting on any of my children. My children are happy. They have friends, i have the comfort of knowing most of their parents and trusting my kids in their care. I watch my son in high school playing sports with kids he's played with since he was 7, I see him comfortable in his skin with the people he has known forever and that is not something I am going to take away. From any of my kids. I never really recovered from not having a good high school experience, but I made it a point to have a great college life(which I did.. a little too great) and to be a good friend and neighbor (hopefully) until Im too old and grumpy to be one.
So new horizons will have to wait until my children are done with their school years, and their memories of their childhood are not shadowed by a decision my husband and i made.
