I am the most indecisive person ever. From picking a restaurant to go to for dinner to choosing which t-shirt to wear to cheer practice, my indecisiveness is one of my greatest flaws. So why was I, the most indecisive person ever, having to make one of the most life-altering decisions a minor can make?

When I was in seventh grade, my life seemed as perfect as life can seem to a seventh grader. I had just made the competition cheer team, my “squad” and I were better friends than ever before, and I was thriving in my classes. To me, the only thing that could have made my life better was a date with Justin Bieber. However, as some guy named Geoffrey Chaucer said centuries before I was born, “all good things must come to an end.” It all took a turn for the worst, or at least what I thought was the worst, over winter break of my seventh grade year. My mom sat us down at breakfast, which was normal. It was Saturday, so we had thick, fluffy, chocolate chip pancakes drizzled with maple and covered by a mountain of powdered sugar on top. Also normal. What was not normal were the words that proceeded to leave her mouth and the tears that would not stop rolling down my cheeks after I heard them. It was my worst nightmare: we were moving. I remember feeling like someone had just taken all the oxygen from the room, as I struggled to catch my breath between the tears that would not cease. I could not fathom how and why my younger brother and sister were happy about this. Did they not care that everything was about to change? Did they not realize the emotional turmoil we were about to face at a new school? It was evident that my mom was excited about the move, and she tried to comfort me with the fact that our new house is going to be bigger and we were going to make so many new friends at our new school and in our kid-friendlier neighborhood. I could not help but think, “How dare you? How dare you want to move me when I had just made the cheer team? How dare you make me leave my friends and try to make new ones when cliques were already formed? How dare you make me go to a rival school of mine?” The reassurance from my parents and siblings could not even begin to comfort my broken, thirteen year old heart. 

The sadness I felt when I first heard the news turned to fury, and on a good day, the fury only took the form of irritation and annoyance. I was desperately seeking any way I could make this whole situation go away. I refused to pack my room, only saw the negative aspects of the homes we toured, and did not smile for what felt like weeks. “Maybe if I just behaved so irritably,” I thought, “then maybe, just maybe, everyone would realize what a huge mistake we were making and we could unpack all the stupid cardboard boxes before it was too late.” But nonetheless, I yielded no power in this situation. I tried my best to let everyone know how I felt about the move, but despite my efforts, the inevitable moving day arrived. Luckily, my siblings and I spent the day with our favorite babysitter, partly because no one wanted kids getting in the way of the move, but mostly because it was obvious how emotional I was that day. I was crushed, as expected. But there was something I had talked with my parents about that was getting me through the move: the possibility of hard-shipping.

Most people hear the term “hardship” and think it is referencing a time or instance that was difficult to overcome. In the case of high school, however, it means filing to get permission to go to a school for which you are not actually districted. When some of my friends heard this, they said they had heard of schools having students do this to recruit better athletes, but that was not my reasoning for doing it. The combination of my feeling of flourishment at my current school and my hatred for big change made the decision seem pretty clear. However, there were a few ideas in my head holding me back. First my parents told me that despite my decision, my brother and sister would still go to the new school, considering they were younger and excited about the switch. Also, I feared what I was going to have to put up with for the next few years. Did I want to have to explain to everyone why I was going to a different school than my siblings? Would people think I was being overdramatic about the whole moving ordeal? These were questions I asked myself throughout the whole process. My parents had already agreed they would support the hardship, but they definitely would like if I was to attend the same school as my brother, Jack, and sister, McCall. I was in a state of confusion, and the only person making it more difficult was myself, the most indecisive person ever.

After careful consideration and many long talks with my family, I did finally decide to follow through with the hardship process. My application to do so was accepted, and all my confusion began to fade away all of the sudden. For me, this decision was so much more than a choice to hardship. This was the first real time I was passionate about making the decision. Had I not said anything, my parents would have just enrolled me at the new school like my brother and sister. However, I fought to get the option to stay at my school, and I am thrilled that I did. If you ask my mom, she would tell you this was the first real incident where she saw an unwavering determination from me to do what was best for myself. Through all of this, I learned the importance of making decisions for what you want, and not worrying about what others think. I appreciated everyone’s input and took all of it into consideration, but in the end I feel like I made the best choice for myself and my future. I could have listened to the speculation I received from some friends and family members, but ultimately this was my own decision about my future. I also learned to never take for granted anything in life. Everything can change in the blink of an eye, and this was the first time I experienced that on a more dramatic level. After my choice, I found myself more appreciative of all the little things I used to not realize were so important to me, such as my family. They were so supportive throughout the entire process and only wanted what was best for me in the end. They showed me an option to stay at my school that many other parents do not even know about. I could not have made it through this process without them. I, the most indecisive person ever, made a decision in seventh grade, and that decision might just be the best one I have ever made.