Where is home?

As a young child (well I am still technically young, so let's say 'younger') I had the air of confidence that most toddlers have on their first day of school. I thought it was going to be amazing, and at first, it was! I mean, I could go to the sandbox whenever I wanted. I was learning how to read and do some kind of writing. I remember when I was about 5, you had to learn a certain amount of spellings before you got your 'breakthrough'. Every week I would try and try, yet I always failed at it. Then, one week, I finally managed to learn all of my spellings and my teacher looked at me with the biggest smile I could imagine. Then, as the ritual followed, you would go around each classroom and the teacher of that class would give you a sticker. It may be a false memory, but I would class that as one of the best days of my life.

Being a creature of habit, I absolutely detested change. My mum describes my childhood as me being 'either on the floor mid tantrum, red and sweaty from a tantrum or screaming hysterically'. Charming! However, when the time came to tell me that I would be leaving my little home in Essex and moving to Yorkshire, I think my main question was 'will I get a packed lunch now?'! I always had hot dinners at school and I think I was getting a little sick of them...

I think my brother found it the hardest to move away, though. Me being 6, I had no real memories of the place and moving to a new school and area in Year 1 would not really impact my life. Yes, I had friends in Essex, but I could make new ones (and thankfully I did!). My parents had grown up in that area, but I think they were more focused on creating a new and happier life for their kids and did not worry too much about the consequences. They had phones and transport, so it wasn't such a big deal. My brother, however, was 10 going on 11. He had already made friends for life and was in the dodgy pre-pubescent stage where your voice cracks if you got too alarmed. He would only be in Year 6 for a year before he moved on to the local secondary school. I never really took into account how scary that must have been.

Now, I'm leaving school. I've lived in 4 boarding accommodations in the space of 3 years. My accent was never really Northern, but now I can say it certainly isn't! It's weird, but I never feel like I fit in because I move around too much. I still have friends up here and down there, but I feel like I'm some creature with two personalities because I change around different people. It's not a crime, so don't feel ashamed of it. Would you judge a chameleon for changing colours so it fits its background? No, you'd say that it's doing it to survive. Maybe we all are to.