I’ve essentially moved every year of my life since I was a child. This has definitely played a huge role on my identity (or lack thereof). I’ve become a bit of a chameleon, blending into different social societies and cultures, starting back in my middle school days. My mom used to say that this was a positive trait — something that most people wish they could do. I’ve grown up believing that, but now that I’m 29 I’m not so sure how beneficial being a chameleon really is.
As an army brat, I grew up without any roots. I was born in Georgia but only lived there for a year. My brothers and I all have different birth cities. My dad’s family is from the New England area, and my mom’s family is from Kentucky, but the majority of my “growing” (middle and high school) has been in upstate NY and rural Virginia. On one hand, I can call a lot of places home, but on the other hand, I can’t pinpoint a hometown.
As a middle child, it’s easy for me to blend in and get along with a variety of people. I fit into several social groups in high school — from academics to athletics, from church groups to partiers. Some people would consider these seamless transitions “fake,” but I never saw it that way. I viewed myself as someone who enjoyed the ride, no matter what that ride was. When I got to college and joined a sorority, I continued this mindset, fitting into different cliques and hobbies as best as I could. However, this chameleon life couldn’t last forever — I’d have no real friends! It was in college when I knew I had to claim a space somewhere, and I did (or at least tried to).
That space that I thought I claimed didn’t last long. After college, I didn’t settle down like some of my friends. I decided to continue moving every year even as I developed a career in teaching. Yes, you read that correctly — I have moved every year as a teacher, starting over at a new school for the past 6 years. My coworkers know me as transient and gypsy-like, and oftentimes they admire my freedom. I’m now at the point where I’m exhausted with all this freedom, and I want to dig my boots in and make a foundation somewhere.
Why did I move so much? Other than the act of moving being naturally to me, I was always moving away from something or going towards something. I would think to myself, “I’ll have a better chance finding a soulmate there” or “There would be more to do if I moved there.” None of these assumptions have come to fruition. I repeat, the grass was never greener. The grass has always been the exact same shade of green.
What are the pros of moving every year?
I have experiences that not everyone has. I bring a fresh outlook on a lot of situations, which makes me an asset to a lot of people. I can relate to and sometimes bond with a broad stream of people because my living experiences have cast a wide net. I can check certain places off my list, especially places I have no desire to revisit. In the workplace, being the new teacher allows me to get away with more — I know this is not necessarily a good thing, but it has taken a lot of pressure off of me over the years. Above all, I can introduce myself as ‘new’ everywhere I go, opening the door for others to take me under their wing and show me the ropes. This is ideal if you are Type B.
What are the cons of moving every year?
I do not have a home. I have a physical house that has been decorated to my liking and several items accumulated from my travels, and not to mention an at-home gym (my proudest accomplishment this year), but I know this house is not my home. I know I will be moving again next year or the year after. I have lost touch with many good friends, not because of any fall-outs, but because of the physical distance. I have maintained the closest bonds with a few high school friends and a couple of college friends, created simply because I was in the same place for 4 consecutive years. As a teacher, I have to start at the bottom of the totem pole every year, get to know new staff, and become acquainted with new school regulations. This is tiresome.
I’ll always be thankful for the life experiences that I’ve had and the choices that I’ve made. I may have closed myself off to deep connections because of my fly-by-night ways, but I’m sure the universe will present a reason to me. I try hard to imagine myself staying in one place for more than 2–3 years, and it’s something that’s hard to envision solely because it’s never happened before. However, I want a family and I want stability, and I know I need to retire my wings eventually. I think it’s probably time I find the meaning of home and relinquish my flighty ways. Being on the pursuit of happiness can be a long and confusing ride, but sometimes staying put for a while is comfort enough.
Photo Credit
Photo is from pixabay
Guest Author Bio
Mary Beth Britten
I’m a high school English teacher by day and writer by night. I live with my 90-lb fur baby in Richmond, Virginia, hoping to call this place home.
Blog / Website: MB Writes
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