As some of you may know, I recently moved out of my childhood home. You may also know that I hate change. With this being the biggest change of my life, it was very difficult for me to accept what was happening as the process of selling a home and building another took place. But, as I always say, it is impossible to do something without the proper motivation (feel free to quote me on that). So when I came to wits that there was nothing I could do to hinder this approaching event, I decided to accept it and look to the future with high hopes. I went to a journalism camp from Monday to Thursday night and until I returned, I didn’t realize it was my last night in my childhood home. I think that being gone for those last few days really helped me cope with the move rather than dreading it’s approach. The next day, we went back and forth between the houses (that’s a 40 minute drive one way) bringing a rented van full of our stuff to the new house. Movers helped with our furniture because duh. It was when I saw the empty house that I realized it was official. I no longer lived in my childhood home. The home I grew up in since I was three years old. The home I had every birthday party and sleepover and even broke my pinky finger in the car door (thanks, Nicholas). This home holds so many priceless memories and it is difficult to leave that behind. I had to keep in mind that in a couple months, I will no longer call that my home. I will call this place my home. Seeing the mountainous pile of boxes in the family room the first night was definitely unsettling. I felt we’d made a mistake we can’t take back. Regardless of how much I told myself that it would be okay eventually, I still felt like it wouldn’t be. Waking up the first morning wasn’t as strange or upsetting as I had expected. I had prepared myself for waking up in tears but I didn’t feel negatively at all. Later, Nicholas and I went to Starbucks to download some TV shows on our phones (since the wifi won’t be until next week, ugh). I looked out the window and saw all of the stores and restaurants that were only five minutes from the house. I became a little more softened to this transition and appreciated all that is available so close to me. At home, the piles of boxes started dwindling and as more of our possessions found their places, it started to feel more like home. I’ve spent the past couple days unpacking and I have rapidly become softer to the idea of living here. Tonight we watched our first movie in the house (Harry Potter of course). And since watching movies together as a family is a huge part of us spending time together, that’s what really made it official. I am currently writing this on the front porch, which has quickly become my place of solitude. The distant sound of sprinklers and the occasional car passing by is the perfect white noise. Under this vast view of the perfectly empty, most vivid blue sky, I can think. Create. Imagine. Laying out here with the absolute weather and reading or writing is the most soothing thing in the world. They’re the little things like this that writer can appreciate and instantly fall in love with. I think the moral of this post is that you should never be afraid of change, no matter how scary or different it may seem. Everything will work out in the end, so you just need to be patient and allow time to adjust.