Every spark of friendship and love will die without a home.
One of the roughest times in my life was probably when I first moved to Florida with my parents. It was the first time I can really say my life got turned completely upside down. I knew the move was coming, it wasn't a huge surprise. But we uprooted quickly and before I knew it, we were living there. And I wasn't very happy about it. For the first couple months, I was actually really miserable. I felt like it was the worst idea ever. On top of everything, I was going through those awkward/sexy pre-teen years, with that whole big gray area of your life where everything is weird anyway and you're in constant fight to any sort of change at all because everything you know is changing so far beyond your control. I was being a brat about it and I probably wore everyone around me out. I was just so bad at digesting the change. I was taking new classes and even excelling in them but it just did not click with my mood that things weren't even that bad. I didn't notice the doors opening for me because of the relocation alone. Doors that eventually lead me into modeling and everything else that I've gotten to do since then, but at the time I wouldn't have guessed it. All I felt was that I was alone and I was furious. It just felt like someone had pressed reset, and suddenly I really just didn't have anybody. I had to start over with new friends. I'd had almost nothing but boys as friends before, but that changed some when I moved. The boys didn't know me, so they treated me differently. They treated me like a girl. And I'm sure it sounds weird, but I wasn't used to that. Boys back home rarely looked at me the way the guys did in Florida, and I was never sure how I felt about it. Even years later when I got into cheerleading, I found it hard to separate myself from what people expected me to be and what I really felt like I was. I wasn't always comfortable hanging out with my squad after practice, I felt better ditching them and playing video games (usually badly) with my guy friends instead. I got a lot of shit for it sometimes but it was just who I'd always been. When I moved to Florida, I had to work past those first impressions. I had to show people who I was, when secretly, I really wasn't sure where I fit anymore.
My family tried to help me through all of this, but it wasn't happening. My parents just wanted me to focus on school and the talent, they felt like if I stressed about making friends then I'd take attention away from what they felt was more important. They weren't even crazy about letting me hanging out with boys at all in Florida because they weren't trusting of them. (Which later eventually led them to forbid me to date, but that's a different story.) My sister, over twice my age, couldn't comprehend why I was having such a hard time dealing with the move because she probably couldn't even remember what it was like to be that age. I had no one and as time went on, it really got to me. I wasn't sure how I was going to deal with it. One night I was in bed and I couldn't breathe in my bedroom, the pressure was choking me. I had to get out of there. I put on my robe and my red sneakers and I went walking. It helped so much. I began to make it a habit until I caught it from my mom one morning, after losing track of time and staying out almost the whole night. But it was worth the air on my face and the opening up of my lungs when I was out there. I always felt like I'd sorted myself out a little more when I'd get back inside. After a while I'd thought, hey, I might never fit anywhere again, but at least I was getting used to being alone. I felt a lot better and as things kept changing, as my parents expected, I adjusted to everything else too. I did make some friends, I got involved in things that were a big help for when my career really started going places. I got through all of it.
I still go walking when stuff gets too hard to handle. When I can't sleep. When I have too much to think about. I usually take my iPod, and lately a coat, and I wander around in the dark like a crazy person until I feel like I can breathe again. Everyone has to struggle at some point to find where they fit into everything. Some of us figure it out quickly. Others of us float around and fit wherever we can until we know for sure. Misplaced puzzle pieces waiting for the right fit. I struggle just like anyone else to find support and for everything to fall into place. I think once it does, maybe I'll fit too.
I got back from Hawaii around a week ago, one of very few places that I've never had a problem fitting in. I had about a week to digest LA again, a taste of New York somewhere in between. Next month is going to be a big change from everything we've been so far. But it's just another one to cope with. And, if you wondered, I'm thinking: there's really no better way to get through anything than to do it with the best there is.
My family tried to help me through all of this, but it wasn't happening. My parents just wanted me to focus on school and the talent, they felt like if I stressed about making friends then I'd take attention away from what they felt was more important. They weren't even crazy about letting me hanging out with boys at all in Florida because they weren't trusting of them. (Which later eventually led them to forbid me to date, but that's a different story.) My sister, over twice my age, couldn't comprehend why I was having such a hard time dealing with the move because she probably couldn't even remember what it was like to be that age. I had no one and as time went on, it really got to me. I wasn't sure how I was going to deal with it. One night I was in bed and I couldn't breathe in my bedroom, the pressure was choking me. I had to get out of there. I put on my robe and my red sneakers and I went walking. It helped so much. I began to make it a habit until I caught it from my mom one morning, after losing track of time and staying out almost the whole night. But it was worth the air on my face and the opening up of my lungs when I was out there. I always felt like I'd sorted myself out a little more when I'd get back inside. After a while I'd thought, hey, I might never fit anywhere again, but at least I was getting used to being alone. I felt a lot better and as things kept changing, as my parents expected, I adjusted to everything else too. I did make some friends, I got involved in things that were a big help for when my career really started going places. I got through all of it.
I still go walking when stuff gets too hard to handle. When I can't sleep. When I have too much to think about. I usually take my iPod, and lately a coat, and I wander around in the dark like a crazy person until I feel like I can breathe again. Everyone has to struggle at some point to find where they fit into everything. Some of us figure it out quickly. Others of us float around and fit wherever we can until we know for sure. Misplaced puzzle pieces waiting for the right fit. I struggle just like anyone else to find support and for everything to fall into place. I think once it does, maybe I'll fit too.
I got back from Hawaii around a week ago, one of very few places that I've never had a problem fitting in. I had about a week to digest LA again, a taste of New York somewhere in between. Next month is going to be a big change from everything we've been so far. But it's just another one to cope with. And, if you wondered, I'm thinking: there's really no better way to get through anything than to do it with the best there is.