I'm slightly fearful of getting into this topic, it's something I've faced many times and every time I think I totally get it something happens that shakes my ground and I break.
I first moved when I was 8 years old. I had moved houses before, but never cities. Being so young obviously meant I had absolutely no say on the matter. I was told by my parents it was for my own good, so that I could play outside with freedom and without the worry of someone kidnapping me. I can't say I really cared. Being at an all girls school with incredibly unrealistic standards meant that I would develop an ulcer before my 14th birthday. I would be bilingual yes, but these girls were vicious. The red room (a play area) was the kingdom and becoming the queen was the quest of us all. This was obviously just the beginning. This girls were groomed to become intelligent, beautiful and the perfectly submissive wives to the elite. So, I don't remember being too bothered.
The city we moved to was small, which meant hell for the first few years as I had come from the capital. The girls and boys at my new school hated my accent. Mocked me... made fun every time they could. It was also the elite of the city but it was so different. No one was bilingual and no one really cared to know the capital of every single Country in the World. They were different. Ranches and politics measured wealth. Traveling the World meant they didn't understand you, and they really had no interest to try. But that didn't really bother me either. Who cares, bunch of small towners! I knew better. So I didn't care. Still, I had no feeling of really belonging anywhere. Friends I had from the city were gone, there was no email, no facebook, nothing, an 8 year old really didn't stand a chance at keeping in touch. I was no longer from the city as I was very much out of the loop, and I was not part of this new small town as I didn't own a horse.
Eventually, we did own a horse, my accent changed, and little by little I got accepted. New outsiders came to the school and the children found new targets. I was old news.
When I was 14 I was told we were going to move again. I was a 14 year old adolescent girl. Really mom and dad? Really? You just tell your child, by the way, we have to get rid of all your things? We move at the end of the month! Oh, and by the way, we are moving to another country. Ahem, and you are not bilingual since this school is not really very bothered with that kind of thing... oops.
......more to come.
