New Beginnings And The Art Of Fitting In

The New Kid

This week, I have been thinking about the new beginnings that I have experienced in my life so far. Of course there are the obvious examples, I have tried most of the sports you can name, I learn to make new things so that I don't need to buy them, plus I was somewhat of an academic Jack of all trades until I specialised in becoming a lame historian.

However, my experiences of moving home have certainly influenced me the most.

Location, Location, Location

Did you ever watch that show where celebrities dressed in latex would jump through holes in a wall... and I have just realised it was called Hole in the Wall... moving is like getting into position before the wall arrives.

I first moved home as a chubby twelve year old. I moved from Kent to Cornwall. It was a real roller coaster. My Mother, Brother and I had to first move in with my Nan in her tiny little house whilst we secured a new house. Having been at an all-boys Grammar School for the first term of my secondary school life, I not only had to move into a new school on the complete opposite side of the country, I also had to learn to interact with GIRLS again. In a somewhat brilliant metaphor I had traded a suit and tie for a polo shirt and a pair of black Vans. Surprisingly, it was quite the culture shock. Unsurprisingly, I remember having a little cry after my first day.

Of course, being the charismatic lady's man that I am, I adapted to my new situation quite quickly. In fact, I adapted so well, I don't even remember what I was like before living in Cornwall. Was I really cool? I sure hope so. I am cool now though... right?

That being said, now I have become the confident Cornish surfer-dude I always dreamed of being, I know how different my life might have been if I had never moved to Cornwall. My Father is a Geordie and my Mother is Cornish, I could've ended up anywhere from Land's End to the Tyne. Imagine me being from 'the North'!

Of course, it does not matter where I could have gone or how different my life could have been. The point is that this move set me up for what was to come.

University

This next move is pretty obvious. No prizes for guessing! (Unless you check out my girlfriend's shop, then you can have a virtual thumbs up).

Moving to uni was certainly a mammoth task. Mother had conveniently set our moving date for our Cornish address to the day before I was due to move in to my halls. In fact, until the end of the summer of last year, I had spent more time living in uni halls than I had in my new 'home'. No wonder I treated it as more of a hotel at first.

As for uni, I got on with my flatmates like a house on fire. We got to know each other a bit, had dinner, and then hit the 'toon. I felt at home almost immediately.

Now, I am a very sociable person, I also consumed a lot of alcohol in that first week of uni, but I highly doubt I would have been as successful in my initial transition without my experience of moving home and making new friends when I was younger.

What next?

I finish my degree next year. Depending on whether I do a post-graduate course I will be moving again very soon. I suppose I should probably have it all planned out by now but I am getting there. 

Whatever happens, I can't wait to move again. Where will I go next? How will I adapt and improve as a human being? What will I do? I feel chills.

Bring it on. I am ready for it. 

Do you know why? Because I wrote a blog post all about how ready I am.