Personal Narrative Essay on My New Life

Thursday, August 23, 2018. The day my life would change forever. We were at the airport. I never thought that it would actually happen. I didn’t know what to expect. When we got on the plane we found our seats and sat down. I was thinking, This is actually happening..

 We landed in Oslo, Norway. We had to wait at the airport for an endless amount of time, and I even fell asleep. Later, my mom asked me, “Can you go buy me a coffee?” “No, I don't want to go there, you can buy it yourself” I said. So, my mom went to buy it herself. I was thinking, Why am I so shy? I need to talk more. But I can’t. 

It seemed like we spent ages at that airport. When it was finally time, we went on the plane. We had to fly for at least 9 hours, I slept most of the time. I woke up and as I opened my eyes, I saw the city from the little window. I was in America. It was an unforgettable moment. It felt like a dream.

We landed in Orlando, Florida. When I went outside, it felt like I was in a tropical  forest, it was very hot and the air was very humid. People were talking in English, and it felt so weird. We rented a car and went to our apartment. I was driving in the car and it still felt like a vacation, I can’t believe I’m going to live here.

After about a week, it was time to go to school. I was supposed to go to 5th grade, but they said I should go into 6th grade already. I was thinking, I don’t know about this… 

The night before my first day of school, I went to bed. My eyes were wide open. I would look at the clock. 11pm. 1am. 2am. 3am. 

I woke up. It was my first day of school. I saw the palm trees as I was driving to school. My dad dropped me off. I was walking towards the school, my hands were shaking, my heart was pounding. This is actually happening. I went inside, there were so many people talking and being on their phones. My eyes started to get watery and a single tear drop slid off my face, I was thinking to myself, Where am I? I want to leave. Please don’t start crying. 

I had my schedule in my hand, I was trying to find room 308.  I went inside the classroom, people were staring at me, my hands started to shake even more. The teacher came up to me and asked for my name. I didn’t know how to pronounce my name in English, but I tried my best. I said,”I- It’s Renate.’’  “This is Renate and she’s from Europe,” the teacher said to the whole class. “You can sit there”, she said, while pointing at the seat in the back. I went to my seat, while my hands were still shaking. 

  Later, I had PE. I was still looking at the school map trying to find the gym.

In PE some girls came up to me and started talking to me. One of the girls, her name was Leah, asked me, “Are you new here?”

 I said,“Yeah.”

“Where are you from?” 

“I’m from Europe.” 

“Wow, that’s cool.” 

I could speak some English but not a lot, so we didn’t talk much. I had different kids in every class, not like in Latvia where I had the same 30 annoying kids in every class, every year. When I finally got home I cried a river on my bed. Even though, there wasn’t a real reason to cry. I kept telling my parents,”I hate it here, I want to go back.” But my parents would always say, “After a year or two you’ll get used to it, and then you will not want to go back.” And my response would always be the same, “No, I won’t.” I would come home and cry every single day. My parents started to worry. I would keep telling them that I want to go back to Latvia, where all my friends are. 

 About six months later, my parents said, “We’re going back to Latvia.” I was enormously happy, mostly because that meant I wouldn't have to go to that school anymore. We were packing our bags. We were on the plane again. We landed in Riga, Latvia. We had to drive to Jelgava, because that’s my home town. 

My teacher was very happy to get to see me again, and she made sure I got in my old class. I got to see my friends again. Everything was how it was before. Some time later I kind of started to get this feeling that I want to go back to America, because living there felt more exciting. 

Three months went by and one day my parents told me that we’re going back to America. As unbelievable as it sounds I was happy and I kind of wanted to go. This time I looked at it with a different point of view. 

I opened my eyes, I looked at the clock. It was 7am. I was getting ready to drive to the airport. My parents called a taxi, as I was driving in the car I was thinking, Here we go again… The taxi dropped us off at the airport.  I was thinking, We’ll see how it goes this time. When we got to the house it was really exciting, because before I only lived in an apartment in the U.S. I went to a new school and everything seemed to be going fine. The kids at that school thought I was voiceless, since I never said a single word at school. Later in the school year, I made some friends and started to talk a little too. I started to get used to that school.  

Two years later, my parents told me that we’re moving again. I was thinking to myself, Not again… 

We were moving to our new house. I already started packing my things two weeks before we actually had to move.

 After two weeks, it was time to move. We packed all the things in the car and drove. I was looking out the window and thinking, How is my new room going to look like? Will I like my new school? I hope I will… 

We moved into our new house, I couldn’t wait to see my room. We went inside and I ran to my new room. Later, we unpacked everything. 

It took a long time for me to get used to everything, but now I can say I’m happy where I am.. And it seems like my parents are always right, because once again, they were right.