Dear Grandma by Nicole Townsend

Begin 2 Luv U - Doug Willis Soundtrack of My Life

By: AZ Nowell

Lightning. A brief, but weighted pause, and then…

BOOM.

Thunder, rolling around loudly in the sky above our home. The sound shook me to my bones, feeling too loud to be harmless. Panic rose in my chest as I tried to make myself as small as possible on the couch in our living room. For a young girl terrified of loud, unexpected noises, a clap of thunder seemed like the worst thing in the world.

Two strong hands picked me up from my curled ball of safety, carrying me out the front door and into the storm. My terrified arms wrapped tightly around my father’s neck as we stood in the middle of our front yard, cold rain falling on our skin, whispered assurances that “everything is okay” falling on my ears. After a while, my eyes slowly unscrewed themselves and I followed my father’s gaze up to the heavens. Another rolling boom echoed out, but for the first time, it didn’t seem so bad.

And then, back into the warmth of the bright green house, the fireplace ablaze, and two mugs of hot chocolate waiting for us.

No One - Alicia Keys

Change. So much change at once.

An overwhelming jumble of sadness, anger, anxiety, and fear crackled on every nerve in my body as I stood in the driveway with clenched fists. The streetlight across the street cast a yellow pallor over the only home I had ever known, now teeming with movers pulling out everything inside and packing it into a truck waiting in the road. In the midst of it all I had been left to my own devices, my mother lost in the chaos.

Across the street, a single light was on in my best friend’s bedroom. Taking advantage of the lack of eyes on me at the moment, I ran as fast as my 7 year old legs would take me until I stood right under it. A sense of familiarity in all the newness coming together against my will. After my calling, a face peeked out, haloed by the golden light, and a small hand waved. A simple goodbye, for an indeterminate amount of time.

All too soon I was also packed away, whisked off to a life with two new houses in two new cities, each with one less parent than before.

Count on You - Big Time Rush

I sat on a pile of pillows between my mothers legs, the smell of hair grease filling my nostrils as ice cold water from a spray bottle slid down my neck. A gentle tug on my hair, tilting my head backward as my mother meticulously put each unruly hair in its place, trying to secure the puff with a hair tie donning two plastic bulbs. At some point I named them “breaks,” as the word “barrette” was too complicated to fit my mouth around. Accurately named, apparently, because there was a snap on my scalp followed by my mother sucking her teeth.

“Sorry girlie girl,” she said, patting my head before reaching into a basket overflowing with a menagerie of other multicolored hair accessories and combing the hairs back into place again.

In my second household, I sat in a similar position. Another set of “breaks,” clips, hair products, undoing and redoing what was just done a few hours before. This time, with a sharp-bristled brush and a harsher hand unfamiliar with motherhood.

I had been cast in the role of the perfect step-daughter, expected to play without a script. My life had been split in two, and it seemed like everyone slipped into their new roles flawlessly — everyone but me.

But I was good at pretending.

Rising, Rising - Crywolf

We were in paradise — the sun was bright, the ocean was blue, and the palm trees all around us swayed in the most perfect breeze. Everyone around us was enjoying their vacation, and I stood in the middle of it all, fists clenched, as the news fell on my ears. I don’t think anyone noticed. More change. Against my will. Just when I thought I’d figured everything out.

The waves crashed in the distance, underscoring my father’s repeated apology. I told him it was alright because, what else could it be? I’d been through one divorce before. At least this time, I knew what to expect.

I knew I would take it in stride, as I always did. I was a trooper. I would be okay, eventually. I didn’t have a choice.

I watched my black shoes splash in the water outside the building of my therapist’s office, cursing at myself under my breath for not grabbing a coat with a hood to shield my face from the rain when I left home. Why had I parked so far away?

As the distance grew between me and the glass doors of the building that seemed too tall for the neighborhood, the real emotions I had been shoving down for months began to slip through the cracks in my facade.

Once I got back to my car, grateful for the warm and dry interior, I pressed my face into my hands and forced myself to take deep, long breaths. I tried my best to push the emotions back down to that place where my worst thoughts lived, but it was getting harder and harder to keep them there.

It was too much weight on my shoulders, I wasn’t sure how much longer I could hold onto all of it by myself, but it felt like it was too much weight for anyone else to bear. So much change in such a short amount of time.

It was a darkness so deep that it swallowed me whole months before, but it seemed like the only person who noticed was me. In a lifetime of hiding my emotions, I hadn’t learned how to let people in.

I tried to focus on how beautiful the mountains in the distance were instead of the sadness trying to claw its way out of my chest. The rain clouds had parted by that point, the air clean enough for me to see the snow capped peaks clearly for the first time in weeks. I pushed the feelings deep down into my stomach, started the car, and headed home.

Change - J. Cole

The line of the horizon in the distance rose and fell with the slow rock of the ship, and a few puffs of clouds floated lazily above me. The air was damp, but not to the point where it’s uncomfortable. Everything was blue — the dark pool chair I sat on, entirely different from the bright blue sky above me and the deep blue of the sea I had been calling my home for a few weeks. Each breath felt clean, unweighted, carrying salt and placing it delicately on my tongue. I felt refreshed, in more ways than just one.

The moment felt completely my own, a moment where I finally was able to focus on myself and the things I wanted. It was interesting that it took me sailing thousands of miles from home to find a kind of peace like this, but I was thankful.

Much of my life felt like I was just moving with the tide of life, with all of its highs and lows, unsatisfied and unable to control it, but along for the ride anyway.

You would think I would feel isolated, looking out over the water and seeing it extend endlessly in every direction. Admittedly, it did feel that way sometimes. But as I sat there, staring at that point in the horizon where the sky met the water, I felt completely and entirely free. For the first time, I could see how all the loss had built into something beautiful.

Not everything was okay, but I was okay.

18 - emawk

Change. So much change.

Once again, I found myself standing on the side of the road in a new city, but this time the decision was my own.

I had just said goodbye to my mother, my best friend, and was watching the uber taking her to the airport turn the corner a few blocks away. I had been holding back my tears, trying to convince her and myself that I was going to be fine without her, but now the anxiety I had been fighting off for a few days hit me all at once. I had been chasing this dream for years — moving to the east coast to go to writing school. Even with all the preparation, it had always been just that: a dream. But now it was real. I had no choice but to turn around, go back into my dorm, and finish what I started.

Me in 20 Years - Moses Sumney

I’m sitting at my desk, trying to condense all the changes in my life into a few pages, when suddenly I have a moment of clarity.

Suddenly, I’m aware that I’m sitting at my desk, in my own apartment with one of my best friends, finishing up my final semester of college. I’m following my passion, and the feeling of being in control is one that I’m now more than familiar with.

I remove my fingers from the keyboard and pause, choosing instead to stare out the window onto the street below. The smell of rain blows through my cracked window, carrying with it memories I’m trying to capture.

Everything is different than it was just a few years before, but in the best way.

Once again, I find myself on the precipice of another major life transition, but this time it doesn’t scare me. A lot more change is on the horizon, but the good kind. The reins are in my hands, and with them comes a sense of confidence that I’ve become more than comfortable with.

I am the way that I am, and that wasn’t an accident. Grateful doesn’t even begin to describe it.