From One Life to Another

Back in the late 90s, Upper Darby, PA was a pretty solid place to grow up, in my opinion. One town away from Tina Fey but not too far away from Philadelphia, I had lived here all my life, with relatives and friends in walking distance. I was comfortable here- life in Delaware County (or Delco, as the locals prefer to call it) was all I’d ever known. It was a warm afternoon in May, summer was on the horizon, and I just couldn’t wait- I just felt like good things were going to happen and I wanted to be ready! I had just auditioned for our fall production of “Meet Me in St Louis” and really thought I had a shot at one of the leads. After school that day, I practically levitated home and headed for the phone to call my mom at work and tell her about my fabulous audition.

Before I could grab the phone and start dialing, it rang, startling me. “Hello?” I said, grabbing the receiver.

“Hey Kate.” I heard my mom say on the other end of the line.

“Hey Mom! I just got home, I was just about to call you! I had such a great day today! The drama coach said I did really well with the audition this afternoon-“

“So, I’m sorry to interrupt but I have something really important to tell you.” Mom’s voice sounded different- like she was about to cry, or maybe she had been crying. I felt a small stab of fear in my stomach, wondering what was wrong. I hoped no one had died.

“Okay…” I said cautiously.

“Are you sitting down?” Mom asked.

“No….” I said, confused. “Mom, you’re really freaking me out. If you could just tell me what’s going on…” I trailed off, not really sure I wanted her to tell me what was wrong.

I’ll never forget the next moment for as long as I live. I was standing in the kitchen, holding a glass of lemonade, when she hit me with, “Your dad’s been transferred to North Carolina and we’re moving in 2 months.”

You would’ve thought she told me that she had terminal cancer and had been given a week to live. I couldn’t believe it.

“Seriously?” I asked, barely above a whisper.

“Yeah,” Mom said, her voice wavering.

She told me she had to get back to work and not to say anything to my little brother until she got home from work that day. Great. In addition to hearing the worlds worst news, I had to keep it to myself for the time being??? Like….. what???? How the hell was this fair???

I hung up the phone and ran upstairs to my room, slammed the door, flopped facedown on my bed and cried my eyes out for a good hour or so. This sucked. I was about to start my junior year of high school… and now I had to move 5 states away and start over? I loved my high school. I loved the friends I’d made there (some of which are STILL my best friends to this very day!) I loved this crappy little town and everything about it… how the hell was I supposed to get excited about leaving the life I knew behind?

Sixteen is such a weird age in and of itself- your body is changing, your hormones are insane, you automatically think you know everything and no one can tell you anything… but then to have this brick thrown at my life out of nowhere really felt like shit. A giant, steaming brick of shit. I couldn’t move to North Carolina. I had a play to star in. I had proms to attend and class ring day coming up…and now I wasn’t going to be there? I instantly was filled with FOMO… and anger at my parents. Who did they think they were, taking me five states away to some rinky dink little town that I’d never even heard of?

That night, when we were all sitting down to dinner, my parents broke the news to us. My brother, then aged 10, was just as unenthused as I was. My parents, however, seemed optimistic, acting as a united front. “We were going to be just fine,” they said, though to me it seemed they were trying to convince themselves as well as us. They said that North Carolina was going to be a great adventure for our family, and we’d all be better because of it.

I realize now, as an adult, that my reaction to this whole thing was irrational, immature, and driven by nothing more than those insane teenage hormones. My not wanting to move was a perfectly valid feeling, though the way I reacted to it was completely unfair. I begged. I pleaded. I fought tooth and nail and threw every flimsy promise I could pull together to find a way to stay. I would get a job and help with my tuition costs, I said. I had enough family around here that surely, one of my aunts and uncles would take pity on me and let me move in to finish high school uninterrupted at my precious Prendie, but it was to no avail.

Prendie was the all-girl, Catholic high school that I was going to be leaving, and that devastated me. As the next few months wore on, I grew more and more bitter about my situation, and angrier and angrier at my parents for not seeing my side of things.

Before I knew it, it was moving day. I woke up and burst into tears. I full on ugly cried in the shower that morning. As my aunt loaded us into her van to take us to the airport, I felt as if I was on my way to be electrocuted.

Back in those days, you still had the freedom to wait with someone at their gate in an airport. When we pulled up in front of Philadelphia International Airport, 2 of my very best friends were waiting there for me. I got out of the van and ran over to them, pretty much snot sobbing the entire way. The three of us stood there, hugging and crying hysterically- you would think that someone had died. We made our way through security and hung out at the gate. When it was time to board the plane, Sean (my brother) and I were the last two to board. A flight attendant led us to our seats. She mistook my tears as me being afraid to fly and tried to offer comfort, but I was inconsolable. I cried the entire flight.

The first week that we were there, I was so homesick I thought I might die. The neighborhood we moved into didn’t have any kids my age living in it, because of course it wouldn’t! We also had moved into a house that was across the street from a cow pasture. I loathed everything about North Carolina. It all just felt so foreign to me. Grocery stores didn’t have carts, they had “buggy’s”. They didn’t have “hoagies”, they had “hero sandwiches”. Instead of the Eagles and Phillies, our local sports teams were now the Panthers and the Braves? Seriously????

Two weeks after moving, school started. I had no idea what to expect, only that I was terrified that I wouldn’t make friends. I had always been a social person, and humor was usually my way of making friends, but I still felt very nervous about it and wasn’t sure why.

Call it foreshadowing, call it premonition, call it a self fulfilling prophecy, call it whatever you like….. but I had a bitch of a time making friends and that just made everything worse. I ate lunch alone in the library most days. I had always been an avid reader, but at that point in time, books became a beautiful fantasy I could escape into and feel good about everything.

I don’t know who I pissed off, or how I started off on the wrong foot, but apparently I made enemies with the wrong person and definitely wasn’t winning any popularity contests. Eventually I made some friends, but in those early days, I was very lonely. Then the rumors started.

Its amazing how just a little piece of gossip can get blown completely out of proportion. I remember on my first day, in one of my classes we did one of those ice-breaker games to get to know everyone. I mentioned that I was from Philly, my dad’s company had transferred him here and I was hoping to make friends… and it was NOT well received. I’ll never know who started telling the other kids that I had allegedly committed murder, and we moved down to North Carolina so that I could start a new life, but I do know now that as an adult, it was probably a blessing in disguise that some petty teenager started all of those awful rumors.

It really helped shape me into the person that I am as an adult. As a result of this whole experience, I saw two very different high school worlds. Those first two years at Prendie were idyllic. I was popular. I was sheltered and definitely naïve. I played the right sports, joined the right clubs, went to all the best parties and got to really enjoy being a teenager. When we moved, I had to learn to fend for myself, and even though I didn’t see it at the time, it was one of the best things that could’ve happened to me. I learned to find my voice (though anyone that really knows me finds it hard to believe that that was ever a problem for me!) I learned to be independent and I learned that I am not in fact, the center of the universe, and sometimes even though I may be part of a situation, its not all about me.

In those two short years in North Carolina, I learned what probably would’ve taken a lifetime to learn had I not moved there. I realize now that having to move in the middle of high school, while not idyllic, wasn’t quite the tragedy I made it out to be…. And had I known all of the good that would come of it, I like to think I would’ve been grateful… had it not been for those awful teenaged hormones, of course.