I grew up in seven states and one foreign country and have never lived in one place longer than four years.

At first, I could not care less that I was uprooted every two years, mostly because I was too young to comprehend the social repercussions of our frequent transfers. But as I grew older, I learned that having to say goodbye to old friends and the process of making new friends was tedious and difficult.

Soon after my eighth birthday I was devastated by my family’s imminent move to Saudi Arabia for a two-year assignment. I had finally made a really good friend in Massachusetts and was reluctant to leave her behind.

Unlike my younger sister, Shay, I was not particularly adept at social interaction and was nervous to jump into a new school—let alone a new culture.

All this would not have been too horrible if we had not been asked to move just 10 months later. Because the situation in the Middle East for American citizens had become precarious, our family was sent out of the country, and my father was assigned to finish out the final year on his own.

At this point, most of you will be asking yourselves why you are still reading this sob story article. Hear me out.

Most of the people I have met here at BYU-Idaho were born and raised in one city, or one state. From joy school to high school graduation, they had the same friends, the same ward and the same community.

What I wouldn’t have given three years ago to be in their position!

I had just moved again, this time for good (or so my parents told me). Again I was friendless, about to begin at a new school and in a new ward. All the girls in my class had known each other since they were very young and had a camaraderie I envied. Again I was the outcast, the “project” that needed to be “befriended.”

I never really had another friend like Kirsten, and I doubt I ever will. I have never felt like I can call any one place home. To those who have lived in one place their whole lives, these adventures can seem like a dream come true. But to me, it was a reality I would have rather avoided growing up.

I have since come to terms with my childhood. I realize how lucky I was to be able to take family vacations to Thailand and Germany, to have lived in Saudi Arabia and to have had the types of experiences that I did. How many kids can claim to have flown a complete circle around the globe? Or have watched camel races in the Arabian sand? I was allowed a rare glimpse of how diverse our world is and how special all of God’s children are. And I wouldn’t trade that for anything.