When I was 15, my family chose to move out of an active, robust community to our mountain house. It was located in a remote town deep in the mountains, quite opposite from the life we had lived before. A place that was beautiful but stunted in the past in every way. There were no modern conveniences like restaurants, grocery stores, shops, movies, or snack spots. There was no television service, just sketchy radio. One street, one block long.
The high school was so small that its graduating class that year was twelve students. They were wary of my appearance coming into the school. I was an outsider. I was lonely, isolated, and shunned. My memories of wonderful weekends and holidays in this home was replaced by despair. There had to be a way to survive, thrive, and make something worthwhile come out of this change.
I found myself adapting by playing the piano, writing, hiking, doing art, reading, riding our horses with my sister, rowing out on the lake, and exploring the mountains for hours. This chapter in my life didn’t last long. My parents knew it was too remote and moved our family to a place which made all of us very happy.
Looking back, that time of living remotely provided life lessons that formed who I am today. I learned that I can survive whatever upheaval happens in life. That something valuable will be garnered at having had the experience. And that strength to overcome the darkest times never fails.