When I was about 8 years old, my family got stationed in Seoul, South Korea. As many moving stories go, my parents had been almost positive that we would be sent somewhere else, such as Florida. Even now, I can vividly remember looking at houses to buy there with my dad. As you can imagine, our orders came as a complete shock, but the two years we spent in Seoul were some of the richest and most interesting of my life. Even as a kid, I learned so much and immersed myself in a

The thing that everyone focuses on when you’re a military child, when meeting new people, is always the plethora of places you’ve likely lived—for myself, sprawled across a handful of countries across a handful of continents, I’m doubtlessly familiar with the details of how cool and interesting it was to get the opportunity to live abroad. But the adjective I hated the most was when they would say I was lucky. Off the bat, I don’t have any problem with the word luck; I’m luck

I grew up between time zones, measuring years in PCS, learning that “home” could be a mailbox I learned to stop checking. I became fluent in starting over, new hallways, new faces, new versions of me introduced like I had always been there. Now I’m eighteen, standing at the edge of something louder than moving trucks, where goodbyes don’t come with return dates and I can’t follow behind anymore. They call it becoming an adult, but I still carry every place I left like stamps

When you think of loss in a military aspect, most people think of veterans, war, and soldiers. But how about those who aren’t actively training for war or those who aren’t directly in military service? Most don’t think of military children as those who have experienced loss. But, loss isn’t always death. As a kid, I lost many things. Jackets, toys, et cetera. In a way, that’s still a loss. In the military sense, I have lost some things as well, but it is nowhere close to othe

This article was sent to us by Sabela M., an 8th grader Marine Brat stationed in Virginia. Do you have a story to share with your fellow military teens? Visit our guest contribution page to find out how you can submit to Bloom! Sabela and her mom when they went to Romania to get away from the sirens for a bit. When my parents told me we were being stationed in Israel, I didn’t really know much about it or what was in store for me. I just knew I felt sad, because it meant sayi

Around two months ago, I found out that I would be leaving my current station of almost three years and moving back to my previous station this summer. This would be my first move after my dad’s retirement, and this news excited me—the thought of returning to a place I was so in love with, leaving my small school, and getting to reunite with my friends again. However, I recently realized that this would be my last move before I go to college. Never before have I had my futur

There’s a strange kind of quiet that occurs with endings you’ve been expecting your whole life. Not a sudden ending — not the kind that interrupts or unravels quickly — but the kind that comes up on you slowly, almost like turning a page in a thick book. The kind that you grow up knowing will happen “one day” without ever actually knowing when that day is or what it will actually feel like when it arrives. My dad is retiring from the Marine Corps this year after 25 years of s

In a life with so much change, so much inconsistency from year to year, living on base has been my rock. From year zero to fifteen, I always knew that, no matter what, I could come back to base at the end of a long day, safe from any problems in the outside world. Living on base was my ultimate refuge, the only constant between each new duty station. No matter how new or uncomfortable the outside world looked from year to year, I always had the Commissary, my favorite Freedo

Currently, as a teenage girl living in the suburban Midwest, my life is stereotypically boring. I live in what one may argue is a copy-and-paste suburban house, go to my local public high school, play a sport, and am part of the school musical. My daily routine doesn’t really vary; besides the occasional plans with my friends and family vacations, my life is calmly repetitive. If you look at the definition of boredom itself, then my current situation can undoubtedly be deem

Being a Navy kid, I’ve been around or in water close to my entire life. My family was commonly found strolling across the beach in Coronado, or visiting the Ballard Locks while living in Seattle, and there was hardly a Friday afternoon while living in Singapore where we didn’t go to the pool after school. What's weird, though, is that I am most definitely a homebody who loves to crack open a nice new book. Rather than being outdoorsy, I'm "outdoorsy- ish ." When it's nice out

There is a proverb that states, "When one door closes, another opens." This may seem like a simple saying, but it has a much deeper meaning than many people imply. Growing up, my parents always made sure I was being active and doing something with a team. I did soccer, dance, and gymnastics as a kid. I ended up not loving soccer and quit altogether. When I was about eight years old, my parents had me make my first big decision that I can remember. I had to choose between dan

I first stumbled across the word “hiraeth” on TikTok under a video titled “beautiful words that describe obscure emotions.” After skipping through the slideshow and periodically jotting down new vocabulary to cram into my AP Lang essays, one word caught my eye. “Hiraeth” is a Welsh word, and while it doesn’t have a direct English translation, it is commonly described as a certain complex type of homesickness, sometimes for a home that was brief or nonexistent, or even one tha

One day, something fell from the ceiling of my bedroom. It wasn’t loud enough to startle me, just a soft tap against the old carpeted floor that had been in every one of my bedrooms. I looked down and saw a blue glow-in-the-dark star -- o ne of the dozens I had stuck to my ceiling two or three years ago. The sticky plaster had finally given up. I picked it up, like it was asking me to, sitting in the middle of the newly vacuumed floor, ruining the symmetry. It felt so dusty a

I've seen much discussion on my feed lately of "Gen Z's overwhelming Nostalgia." Our tendency to reminisce on everything "unimportant" -- a random place, an insignificant time, and even the past we may never have experienced. We often make Pinterest boards and edits of the 70s, 90s and every other time we didn't live, specifically the times before social media and smart phones. As I feel this storyline picking up more and more, I feel a definite truth in it. I think of every

My first day of school in Germany, my skin still tan from the sun in Georgia. Dearest Germany, The first time I met you was July 4, 2018. I was jet-lagged and could barely keep my eyes open. I didn’t even realize I met you at that moment; I was too tired. My memories of the first day together were captured through an out-of-focus camera lens at the airport, the drive to the hotel, and then sleeping -- all seen through a blur. As the days passed, though, I got to know a little

Every person who's ever come to my house may remember the familiar smoky smell of pork wafting from our kitchen as they're welcomed by my mom with a smile and a laugh. Our home is always decorated beautifully, every wall with pictures of those we love, and every couch layered with blankets gathered from many Christmases and housewarmings. My mom is one of those people who will always make you feel understood and valued. She is unwaveringly strong but always funny -- the life

As a military teen, I’ve never been able to actually choose where I went next. While my family has always had a say in the place we move to, I could never absolutely choose where. The military could always say, “Nope - you’re going here.” I’m currently a senior in high school, and I’ve spent the last three years ignoring the very prevalent question of “where do I want to go to college?” I couldn’t figure out where I want to move. I suddenly have the ability to choose, and I c

This article was sent to us by McKenna P., a college freshman at the University of Providence in Great Falls, Montana. Do you have a story to share with your fellow military teens? Visit our guest contribution page to find out how you can submit to Bloom! McKenna with her dad and younger brother in 2013. I hate this. I hate being the new girl. Why did my dad have to join the military? I wish I could just live in one place. Nobody is going to like me. I always have to leave.

I am from cold, harsh winters and frostbit toes I am from roaring waterfalls where you snack on warm apple cider donuts and lick the sugar from your lips I am from a home where deer run in the backyard where there are faces in trees I am from nights filled playing hide and seek with friends When we were younger and times were simpler I am from quaint coastal towns Filled with mansions from an era long before mine I am from sailboat rides and Subway sandwiches From a time wh

This article was sent to us by Honor L., an 11th grader Navy brat stationed in California. Do you have a story to share with your fellow military teens? Visit our guest contribution page to find out how you can submit to Bloom! Many people think that the only time a military parent isn’t present is when they are on deployment. I’ve had trouble explaining to civilians over the years that just because my dad can’t make it to an event doesn’t mean that he is on deployment. In r