Born, raised, and educated in the South, Christopher Andrew Armstrong bought a one-way plane ticket to Los Angeles only a few weeks after graduating with a B.A. in English: Creative Writing at the University of Tennessee at Chattanooga. His freelance writing career includes credits writing about music, fashion, art, celebrity profiles and ghostwriting – which is how he came into contact with Story Terrace. After two years spent freelancing with the company, he joined the team full-time in January 2020 as a Project Editor. When not working, Christopher enjoys playing with his Siamese cat Buddha and working on his personal writing pursuits.
As the Story Terrace Project Editor, Christopher enjoys bringing stories to life.
Moving Through Life
I was eleven years old when my life took a harrowing pivot; my father’s job relocated the family from Knoxville to Cleveland, Tennessee.
“I hate this,” I repeatedly informed my parents as I packed up the belongings I’d accumulated while spending my initial decade growing up with my sister and my parents in our homely, but comfortable two-bedroom house.
“But I don’t want to make new friends,” I insisted as I unpacked those same items into my new bedroom — one I didn’t have to share with my sister.
Reflecting on this time in my life, I must’ve drove my parents near the brink of madness with complaints about leaving my former life behind. However, could you really blame me? My idea of reality meant structure; creating bonds, relationships when young and then nurturing them throughout my life. Nothing which came before could’ve prepared me for this magnitude of change.
Yet, despite everything, Father never wavered with his plans. My first summer in Cleveland passed and, during the fall, my parents enrolled me in fifth grade at the local elementary school where I soon found myself well and adjusted; much like my family assured me I would. While I would sometimes get nostalgic about my old friends, this sunken feeling wouldn’t last when I thought about my new set of comrades. Plus, there was no denying the immense satisfaction I felt not sharing a room with my sister.
I couldn’t predict it at the time but, little did I know, this era in my development has equipped me with the necessary tools needed for my future. Moving would become a fixture in my timeline. While finishing up my pre-collegiate educational years, my family drifted from house to house around the Cleveland area before leaving the state altogether. My twenties would see much of the same, moving almost unconsciously before I made my most daring move. Much like many who came before, with only a one-way plane ticket, a suitcase, and a dream, I decided I would call Los Angeles, California my home.
How hard it must’ve been for my dad, driven purely by a desire to provide, to mince his words while I bemoaned endlessly about something so overwhelmingly positive. Yet, no matter my gripes and grievances, he’d say ‘you’ll learn from this,’ like he foresaw my future. I guess you could call it father’s intuition.
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