With Each Move an Opportunity

I moved recently, and I’m in the process of selling my house. (OK it’s a condo – whatever. But anything that costs that much should be referred to as “house” – period.)  I had a hard time with this move – just ask my sister @KLCanefan who came out from Florida to help me, and my friends @lildevilmama, @crackpotpress, Mel and JL who volunteered to help on various days. (I have crazy friends – what can I say.) 

I was disorganized and not fully packed by the time my friends and the really kind movers I hired arrived. And I’m grateful that everyone involved dealt with the entire situation with good humor.  Well, except when my sister started throwing things in the bathroom, but we’re not here to talk about that. (Note: I don’t blame her.)

One night a week before “the big move,” as I was up packing I did a very obnoxious thing. I texted my sister the following: “I know why I’m so upset.  I’ve never lived anywhere longer than I’ve lived here.” (It was obnoxious because it was 1 a.m. my time and she lives in Florida. I’ll let you do the math. )

I moved into that house when the kid was still a baby, so there are all kinds of memories of his littleness contained there. And over the six years that followed, my family and I endured a number of life-changing evolutions. (Oxymoron? *shrug*) Regardless, it was my home for six very important years.

Just six? I know… I’m such a drama queen. (Where's my tiara?)

But think about it. I’m 41 and the longest I’ve lived anywhere is six years? Yes – this is a fact. When I was growing up, my family moved every four to six years. People ask me where I’m from and this is my rehearsed reply speech:

“My father is from El Salvador, my mother from Texas. They married and my older sister was born in Philadelphia. They then moved to Chicago where I was born. When I was 3, my parents loaded all of our belongings into two trucks and we drove to El Salvador (read about that here). My younger brother and sister were born there but the civil war was too much for my mom (*facepalm* to my dad) so we moved to Puerto Rico when I was 7, then to Costa Rica when I was 12. We moved to Miami when I was 17, where I graduated from High School and the University of Miami (read about that here). As an adult, I went on to NY, L.A., back to Miami, To SF and then back to L.A.”

To most people, all of that moving sounds absolutely brutal. And it was: I was fortunate to have a pretty close family, and my siblings are my best friends (read about that here).  I hear people stress out about moving their kids across town – or across the country – to follow life or career opportunities.  I always say: “You know what? Every move is an opportunity. To improve your life, learn something new or start over if you want to.” And for me, this was a fact. Each move was an opportunity for my father’s career.

For me each move was an opportunity to learn new cultures and dialects, to make new friends, and to reinvent myself whenever I needed or wanted to. I think all the moving around is what has made me so adaptable in my professional world, too.

So, while this move down the street has been painful for me, I choose to see it as an opportunity. For what - we’ll see. But it’s an opportunity for the kid and for me nonetheless..