The Talk That Changed My Life
- navakallc
- Apr 13, 2024
- 4 min read
I was 9 years old, just beginning to register all the changes happening around me, how the quiet streets had started to grow louder, the people in the area increasing. I was 9 years old, my imaginative streak running wild, smiling at all the new experiences, however big or small they might be. I was sitting on the ocher couch by the window, the lined pattern on it digging into my skin as I flopped on it in my denim shorts. I was gazing out the window, sliding the blue-screened blinds until I had a clear view of the peach-colored buildings in front of me. It was a warm summer day, and I was hoping to catch some of the late morning breeze still confused on whether to stay or move on.
We had just had breakfast, I remember it distinctly being Pohe (an Indian breakfast food made with soaked rice flakes), its bright yellow demeanor representing the sunny sky outside. I was remembering all of our fun times in London, being vacation sick as I scroll through all our photos in Trafalgar square, tower bridge, piccadilly circus, Hyde Park, and Buckingham palace. I loved the greenery there, the tourist attractions but also just the daily life people lived there. It was right out of an American TV series I used to watch.
This is what prompted my parents to instill a thought in me, something that would require change, a lot of it, as it included leaving my friends and extended family in India. They proposed our move here, to the United States. We’ve had conversations about it before, so I wasn’t completely new to the idea, but my first instinct was to still say no. I liked my friends here, the group we had so diligently created the last few years, each passing of the year only bringing us closer. Though they urged me to think about my experiences in London, how I felt, my opportunities only increasing. They promised me that they wouldn’t make the decision without my consent and I was relieved about that, because they had listened to me when I said no to their same proposition back in second grade.
It was the perfect time to move though because my middle school years were about to start in a year, me going into 5th grade in the fall that year. It would be a good opportunity, one filled with many ziplines, trails, and summers in the lake. I began liking the idea, pitched to me on a bright sunny day on July 22nd, 2018. I could see myself there, making friends, gaining my ground, my voice. My parents and I began to have more conversations about it throughout the day, me being inquisitive about every aspect, wanting assurance that it would be ok, that nothing would turn out bad.
I could see their expressions change with all of my questions, glad that I was giving change a chance, since their motto is literally “Change is the only constant thing”. The light in their eyes, their reassuring hand on my shoulder and the excitement almost brimming in the air, I uttered the exact words that changed the course of my entire life. I said, “Ok, let’s do it”. Alright, perfect, they said. I smiled at their grinning faces thinking to myself that maybe it would turn out to be the best decision I ever took, and that’s exactly what happened.
The next year was a blur of activity, heading off to one visa appointment or another, making sure that we had all papers in place. My heart started breaking, just a little, every time I went down to play with my friends. I was cherishing my lasts with them, knowing that soon enough, I would be saying goodbye. The course continued, us acting like the pieces in the game of life until finally, we moved towards for the interview.
The visa interview is comprised of a person from the American embassy interviewing us for our validity and candidacy of being able to live in the United States. It was daunting at first, because they asked you questions as if in a rapid fire with stern voices, but everything went smoothly if you were prepared. We went in with tense faces, fingers crossed for the best to happen, and walked out of the same door some 30 minutes later, trying to keep it together, but eventually screaming in jubilation on our way to our car. We had been accepted, our visas stamped and our move to the United States confirmed.
We went to our hotel room and immediately broke the news to our family, their expressions a tumble of emotions as we too navigated through the maze of the sudden change. The most special thing was when I told my friends, on one hot summer day at my house, in my room, with the pink walls and dolls everywhere not setting the tone for something serious. They weren’t prepared for my news and neither was I, almost crying as I told them, feeling the pinprick of tears stinging my eyes, but I held on to them with dear life, vouching to be strong for my friends. It was a lot of my shoulders at that time, and the mood was somber that evening when we all went down to play. I tried not to count my lasts. My last game with my friends, our last ice cream run, our last selfie together. But they were so nice about it. They were there to support me through thick and thin, staying up till 2 am making last gifts for me or even meeting me for those blissful 15 minutes on my departure day before they had to leave for school.
I was nine years old when I first made that decision, something I wasn’t used to as this was the first game-changing decision of my life. For example, while debating on which ice cream flavor to choose at the shop was important, it wasn’t life changing for me. On the other hand, moving to another country halfway around the world? Maybe a bit more change. I was glad I took that decision though, because there is truly no other way I would imagine myself living other than the fantasy summers I spend here, in Redmond, my friends at school, my favorite classes and most importantly, finding happiness in the little things.