Moving countries, changing lives.

This is the story of how I felt when I moved from Hertfordshire,
England, to Sydney Australia. I left every single one of my friends
behind, and at the time, it also felt like I was leaving myself.

Things began to change in April. My friend, Robert announced that he
was moving to Suffolk. Nothing was the same after that. I remember my
friendsand I having a conversation about how awful it would be to move
away from everything.

The evening before Robert's last day at school, my father told me that
he might be offered a job in Sydney, Australia. My reply was a plain
and simple "NO.". I just could not imagine it happening to me. The next
morning, I arrived at the bus stop, and I told my friends that it just
was not going to happen. I spent the whole day thinking about it, and
when it was time to say goodbye to Robert, we all cried. This made me
think how awful it would be if I had to move. It would kill me.

Well, nothing more was said until mid June. My dad had been offered the
job, and we had to go to Sydney to find out where I could go school and
things like that. It was not final. I had convinced myself that
everything was going to be okay, and I was not going to move away from
everything I loved. The plane journey was horrible, and when we finally
arrived, I missed my friends already. My dad arranged for a woman to
help me "fit in". This made me so angry. I had no say in it. I hate it
when people try to organize my life. Dad told me that "it was for the
best" and I had a have a "better life in Australia". How did he know
that? Just because he'd been to Australia about 4 times, and I1d only
been twice, he must have convinced himself that he was some kind of
Australia expert.

Maybe I was being selfish, but I felt so strongly about it, I was not
even trying to be enthusiastic. It was as if my dad was only thinking
about the advantages, and not the disadvantages of it. This was going
to cost money. It was going to change our lives. It was ridiculous! My
parents claimed to understand, but I seriously do not think they did. I
mean, if they really knew how I felt, they would not be putting me
through this. During the visit, I cried nearly every day. I do not tell
my parents very much about me, so it became even harder. Oh, and about
my dad's job. He was going to have exactly the same job as he did in
England. Same salary, everything. We were just going to be in
Australia.

At last, the week had ended and I could go home to my friends and
everything would be normal! But I was wrong.

No matter how much I tried to convince my parents that we should not
go, I just was not convincing enough. We were going. I was trapped.
There was nothing else I could do. I remember crying for hours and
hours, and then emailing all my friends and telling them that I was
leaving. I just could not tell them to their faces because it would
upset me too much. I couldn't believe that it was happening. Nothing
like this ever happened to me, so why now?

By September, the whole school knew that I was leaving. Every single
time I came into a classroom, a group of halfwits would yell "G'day
Mate!" it just got increasingly boring, and they always did it. There
was always someone there, reminding me that in a matter of weeks, I1d
be leaving my friends and family behind.

My last day of school came along. This was going to be the last time I
saw some of my classmates from a long time. It was an awful day, but it
really meant a lot to me. My best friend gave me a photo album with
lots of photos from when we were little. She wrote little notes on the
back of each one, and as I read them, I cried more and more.

Just as I thought I had got over that, I entered the classroom and
found that my other friends had laid presents out on the table, all for
me. I could not believe that they had gone to all the trouble. I got a
"Good Luck" balloon, one of those huge cards, and so many other things.
I did not necessarily want presents, but it showed me how much they
care, and I hope I showed them how much I appreciate it, because that
was exactly what I needed at the time. I received a little autograph
book, jam-packed with messages from nearly everyone I knew. The day
went faster than I wanted to, and before I knew it; I was on the bus
home. My friends and I cried all the way home. I read my cards, and I
thanked everyone. I have never been that sad. I just could not believe
that that was it. This was my last bus journey. I could not take
it.

I came home to find our house full of cardboard boxes. My belongings
were gone, and unfortunately, so were all of my clothes. The men that
were putting all the furniture into boxes had put my suitcase in one
too. I had to go out and buy new clothes, since all of my things were
floating about on a boat on their way to Australia. Actually, I found
that quite funny, because the amount of bad luck I was having at the
time was unbelievable!

The day after my last day at school (a Saturday), my friends turned up
on my doorstep, blindfolded me and drove me to a place where we played
with laser guns. We were all in teams. It was me and my friends against
a group of 8-year-old boys. They won!

On Sunday, Beth threw a farewell dinner for me. I enjoyed that very
much, as I got to have a good time, and I realized how special my
friends were. It was the 8th of October, and it was the last time I saw
my best friends. I miss them more than ever. On the 13th of October, I
left England. My parents and I spent a week in San Francisco, and
although it was a holiday, it just was not right. I knew that
afterwards, I was not going to fly back to England and arrive back at
my old house. Life was not going to be normal again. It was
different.

I do not know if you will be able to understand this, but during that
visit to San Francisco, I discovered that my parents and I were just so
different from each other. I did not understand them, and they did not
understand me. I began pondering over whether I was different or not.
Was it me that was causing us to confuse each other, or was it them? I
did not need this. Now I was homesick and confused. I found it hard to
cope. I just wanted everything to stop so I could catch up. I could
tell that my dad wanted me to be something that I am not. I think he
still does. I have always been under the impression that I am a very
simple person. However, this time, nobody seemed to understand me.
Well, my friends back home did, but that did not help. They were miles
away from me. My parents were constantly lecturing me, and I felt like
they were trying to turn me into someone I was not. I could not
understand why they would not accept me. For who I already was. I was
not just blaming them. I was blaming myself, too. I did not know whose
fault it was.

This was an extremely depressing and confusing time for me. I realise
that I was incredibly narrow minded to think that if things changed, no
one would be happy. Now I know how wrong I was, and i'm so happy here.
I get to see my friends in England twice a year, and despite getting a
tiny bit homesick on occassion, things are great now. Making friends
isn't hard if you open up to people and let them know that you want
them as your friends. As for my parents, we're doing our best to settle
our differences. We still have a long way to go, but they're family,
and even though I didn't think so at the time, they supported me. My
friends in England may be far away, but I still talk to them frequently
and I hope nothing comes between us, not even distance.
Of course things have changed, but for the better. I have some
absolutely fabulous friends here and i'm considering staying here, even
after my dad's contract ends. Give everything a chance, you'll end up
with more friends, more experience, and an amazing story to tell.