Personal Narrative: Moving To Chicago

I pull my sandwich out of my Spiderman lunch box and look around at the circle of boys and girl around me. Taking a moment to let their loud, cheerful chattering wash over me, I think about the old me I’d left in Chicago. How surprised she’d be if she saw me now, hanging out with so many new friends, becoming an actor and loving every minute of it. She’d never have had the courage to start a new activity with a group of strangers; yet, here she is, only months later, doing just that. Although Chicago is one of the most violent cities in America, growing up there was the safest I’ve ever felt -- I was completely sheltered emotionally. All my friends were the children of my parents’ old friends that I’d known my whole life; I was homeschooled, so I rarely met new people or was forced into situations where I had to talk to strangers. I was so comfortable in my life, living in sluggish slow motion, never desiring any change. But underlying the ease was the assumption that I could remain snuggly wrapped in that haze of familiarity, and when I was shoved out if it, I was in uncharted territory, lost, flailing, terrified.
So, when my parents broke the news one cold February day around the kitchen table that we were relocating to Colorado, everything came

Each time I was shoved into the middle of an awkward situation it was like having my head thrust into a bucket of cold water -- it was awful and painful and jarring, and there were moments that felt like drowning, but each time my head went under I was able to hold my breath just a little longer. This newfound confidence has vastly improved my quality of life. Without that anxiety, the whole world is at my fingertips and I can see the richness and beauty of this world; things I would never experience if I spent all my days in the same ten-mile radius with the same twenty people my whole