Ever since the day I learned to walk, I have been joined at the hip with each and every member of my family. To me, seeking independence was never an issue. I was perfectly content to run off and hide within the confines of a family that spoiled me rotten. For children, growing up in a coal-mining town in Cape Breton, Nova Scotia, it was a small-town custom to know everyone. Nearly every person in the town knew everyone else. It has been that way in New Waterford for decades.
Living in such a small coastal town was an isolated, yet enjoyable life. I had numerous friends, relatives and pets. So, it's safe to say that I was a happy child. As the years passed, my older brother busily grew up, and become mature, while I was a mud-faced little kid who simply vegetated on the couch, ate dry Cheerios and watched Ninja Turtles. I barely paid heed to growing up. Sure, it seemed like a fun life, but things were about to change.
Of course, all good things must come to an end. My parents divorced, and I had to move into a new house with my mother and brother. Still, I remained in New Waterford. There was still no room to grow, and mature properly. I still had a huge family-line to run to, whenever I fell over and lost one of life's little battles. This had to be one of my greatest weaknesses. At the time, I was only twelve years old. I had yet to realize how much puberty really sucks.
Junior high moved rather quickly. I formed close friendships, and gratefully held onto these relationships for several years. Sure, it was all fun and games, but before Grade ten was even underway, I was faced with a question from my mother:
"So, what do you think of moving again?"
Oh, sure. Big whoop - another move, another house. After doing this quite a few times, it was no sweat. Ignorance was brief bliss at the time, but it was only a matter of moments before I found out exactly WHERE we were moving. Not across the street. Across the country.
With that in mind, the prospect of British Columbia was on the horizon. I had the choice to remain in the Maritimes, but I couldn't bear to leave my mother, even though I was going to leave the rest of my family behind. At the time, my hometown was not doing too well. Coal-mines were closing, people were out of work and it was quite oppressed.
After countless hours of heartache, it was all settled. I was going to leave with my mother. Left behind would be the home I knew for fifteen years with its closely-knit community, kind-hearted folk, familiarity and most of all - my family. All of the shelter and comfort in my life was to be shoved aside like an old teddy bear. Despite the fact that my mother was going to be with me, I felt alone. Completely alone. The day of departure, September 26th of 1999, came by astoundingly quickly. It had to be one of the most painful days in my life, thus far. It was so bad, that I even had to leave my cat behind with relatives. I could have sworn I was living within a nightmare. The pain of leaving was just too much, but, sometimes such a thing is needed in order to grow and mature. I never would have imagined how this hellish day would be a turning point in what I would become.... that it was necessary.
After a day of flying, mom and I had finally arrived in British Columbia at 12am. (4am Nova Scotian time.)
Over the next few months, I was seriously homesick and saddened. This would all dissipate, as I was enrolled in Cowichan Secondary. Immediately after that, on my very first day in this school, I was met with a huge wave of new, British Columbian friends. All of them were curious about who I was, as my accent aroused much adoration from these lovely people. Thanks to all of them, my adjustment to this province has been smooth and comfortable. The years of 2000 and 2001 flew past, taking the rest of Grade 10 and 11 with them. I was happier, independant and most of all.. I didn't feel like a stranger anymore.
Nonetheless, the fates decided to kick my ass again. Come the summer of 2001, my mother, Phil and I decided that there was another move in order. From Duncan, we would move to Victoria. Yes, a city. One of the most horrid, hated words in my vocabulary. Being from a small town, I was absolutely horrified at the prospect of moving to an urban area, and once AGAIN leaving behind a loving group of friends. Of course, I was furious, but I also knew that this move was necessary. My parents were unhappy, needed better jobs and felt isolated in the little cubicle that was our apartment. I couldn't blame them, because I wanted to get into a house too. So, it was decided; in August, we would move to Victoria. Unfortunately, I couldn't help with the moving because I visited Nova Scotia for a month. Let's just say that trip was too lengthly to explain, and very emotional.
It's been a few months now, since we settled in Victoria. It has been turbulent for myself, for I was fearful of such a large place. But life HAS improved, as we moved into a big, lovely house and adopted two kittens. Mom and Phil, who I now call my step-dad, are still together after four years. I'm just waiting for the two of them to hurry up and just get married, already! I feel like a stranger again, but it will pass. If I can survive moving across a country, I can survive a city; knowing that I still have close contact with all of my friends and family - East coast to West.
It's been a rough go, but I am now a graduate, and it is currently 2002. As I sit to contemplate my life, I realize that leaving the cozy little nest of New Waterford gave me this 4.0 G.P.A, 87% grade average and scholarship. These certificates of acedemic honors and achievements give a message that I have grown, that life is only beginning.. and that change is necessary for survival and finding the walk in life. No matter how horribly the pain arises.
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Laden with luggage, self-pity and sleepiness, I lugged my way through Victoria International Airport like a lost little kid. People knew that I was from an entirely different place, due to the distraught expression on my face. It was in this big, bad place that my mother's long distant boyfriend of 2 years, Phil, would be waiting for us. During the upcoming months, he would be crucial for our survival in this new province. A day after arriving in B.C, we travelled up to Duncan. This place would be my new home, and oddly enough, I felt comfort in this new town. Mainly because it was about the same size of New Waterford...