pt 2

Hi. My name is Mikaela Naegle, and this is a little bit into my life. I am 16 years old and the middle of nine children. Yes, you did read that right, nine. Five girls and four boys, with a sad line of unsuccessful pets, might I add. Being one of nine is definitely something I could write about, and maybe I would, but something more drastic happened than having a thousand siblings (in my opinion at least). Maybe I'll tell you about my family some other time. ((:

Four months and four days ago, I started a new life. This wasn't on purpose, nor did I ever wish to start a new life, but that's what I got, so I'm gonna make do with what I have. In November of 2016, an idea was brought into my peaceful home in South Jordan: moving. Yeah, sure, my dad had always talked about it and joked about moving, but was this really happening?? I came downstairs from the room I shared with my sister, Mariah, and walked into the kitchen to hear, "Mikaela what can I do to make it easier to move?" My instant answer was simple: "Nothing." Nothing could make moving easier, and I knew that. No amount of money or gifts could replace what I had. Nothing could replace my home. I didn't know where my dad had in mind to move our family, and I didn't even know if this time it was real. Could it be just another one of his dreams to move into some huge mansion with a giant kitchen and a pool? I wish it was just a dream. But deep down I knew this one was different.

Then, reality hit me. And it hit me a hard.

I had just started sophomore year at the best high school in the world, in my eyes. The school with the most spirit, the school that won every sports game imaginable, the school that held all my friends, and the school that graduated four of my siblings. If you counted correctly, that made it every sibling that came before me.

This was my dream. I was living my dream, so why me?

I was in high school, FINALLY! Everyone, and I mean everyone, says that high school is so so so much better than middle school, and my ninth grade year was pretty gosh dang fun, so I couldn't wait for what high school would bring. I had a great group of friends. I had my absolute best friend in the whole wide world, Hannah, and the first football game of the season just happened to be the 10 year mark of our friendship. Some of my friends were actually able to drive and we all thought that was the coolest thing in the world, well it actually was to be honest. I was boy crazy and high school just means more boys!!! I was so excited for all the activities and getting involved by going to all the football games with my friends. Just about everything you could think of, I was excited for.

Life was going perfect. Absolutely perfect. The most I had to stress about was probably my acne. I was getting pretty good grades, all my friendships were flourishing and I wondered if life could get better, and I knew that it would. Or did I?

Could I still be just as happy 1,873 miles away? Does having a hundred friends, a boyfriend, and an awesome school make me happy? Could I live without those things? I didn't think so.

I remember laying in my bed screaming with hot tears streaming down my face as I told my mom I couldn't move. I told her I couldn't live anywhere else. I told her this was my home. And all she could do was sit there, brush my hair with her fingers and tell me that it was going to be okay.

I cried everyday.

Every. Single. Day. The anxiety got the best of me and caused stress in the places I never would have imagined. I would leave church early and walk home, because it was too hard to stay in a place that I loved. And the worst part was the people I loved didn't even know I was leaving. I didn't tell anyone, because I felt like I couldn't. I was living inside a home whose favorite topic of conversation was moving. I hated it. It made me sick to see all my family talking so easily about leaving the one place I called home. So, I didn't talk about it. I didn't tell anyone. The silence made me helpless. I wanted to be able to go to school where everything was the same. Where everything could seem normal for at least seven hours of my day. I was avoiding the biggest problem of my life. I was lying to everyone. And I was lying to myself. I knew things weren't normal and I kept telling myself they were. My house was under constant construction. My parents wanted to update and remodel my house so that it would sell faster.

My best friend was the first to find out. We were hanging out in my house after school one day and Mariah said something about moving because she thought that surely I would have told my best friend by now. At first she thought it was just a joke, but she knew by the look in my eyes that this was real. I swore her to secrecy, and then we played the waiting game.

So that's it. Hannah was the only one. For seven months we kept it to ourselves. And we barely even talked about it. I didn't tell my church friends, I didn't tell my school, I didn't tell my closest of friends, and I didn't even tell my boyfriend.

Then, one day I did. And all the heartbreak and sadness I thought would be brought, wasn't nearly as painful as I anticipated. My sweet boyfriend kept coming up with solutions and things that he knew would make me happy. My other friends told me about when I would visit and got me excited. Yeah sure, we cried and cried, and even left 4th period to sit in a Harmon's parking lot and cry, but they were there for me, and that's what really matters.

This is just the beginning of my long story, but it's a start. I've learned so many things in the past year, but one of the most important, is to know that it is going to be okay. Yes you can cry, and you can even cry every day (take it from experience), but it will get better. I am living proof of that.

Keep smiling until next time

Mikaela

My first post AHH pt 1

Here's the plain truth: moving sucks. And that may seem so abrupt or straightforward and negative, but I'm not going to sit here and sugar coat it for you. Or for myself for that matter. And I'm not just talking about the down the street moves, or the moves across town, I'm talking about the across the country moves. The ones where you leave almost everything behind. The ones where you are stripped of all your comfort and you have to face all "that" by yourself in just a few days. By "that", I mean life. Reality. It doesn't come so sweet to all of us, and it may not come sweet to any of us.

I'm starting this blog, well because I'm at sort of a standpoint in my life. I don't expect a lot of people to read this, and I don't expect to become one of those famous bloggers (like Indy Blue ah). I''m starting this blog so I can heal. So I can just write all of my feelings out, because a journal doesn't work too well for me haha. Plus, I actually sort of enjoy writing. It gives me a sense of accomplishment, and it's something better to do than sit on my phone and look at old pictures of Utah and cry. This might just be better, maybe.

Well, anyways it doesn't matter why I'm writing, it just matters that I am. And I'm really going to try. This is definitely different, but I'm willing to give it a shot, so here it goes!

(I actually opened this page, changed the font size to 12 point and the font to Times New Roman before I realized what I was doing, oh boy)

See you in part 2!!