Late-Blooming Flowers

I never knew I could find a connection to other people like me. Then I found Bloom. My sister started first as a blog writer, then started The Bloom Room podcast with her other milteen friends. I was in 7th grade at the time, ignorant of many things in the world. I knew at the time my sister joined something related to being a military kid, but I never knew the impact this blog had on kids all over the world. As I grew older, I learned more about what my sister did by reading her blogs and seeing her go off on video calls for various panels on milteen life.

I always felt isolated as a kid, feeling the disappointment of PCS, having my father work long hours at the base every day. I loved spending time with him and my family, but only my sister ever really understood how I felt. I met military kids here and there as my life passed, but I never really got to click with them, since I kept most of my feelings about milteen life hidden deep. 

Middle school and summer passed by like a blur. My sister told me about Bloom again, since she knew about all my feelings and thoughts agonizing me. I sat down to apply on a fateful summer day, but saw that blog editor applications were closed. I saw, however, that blog writer apps were open. I was unsure, wary of how fellow milteens would take my writing, but I decided to give it a chance. I submitted my draft, feeling sick to my stomach, and waited.

When I received the email, my heart rose. Someone liked my writing. Someone thought my story was worth sharing. After my onboarding, I took to writing. Writer’s block was imminent, but always, new ideas popped in. Many were scrapped over time, but I kept going, trying to find a way to inspire people like me, to let others know that we exist. I want to continue with my story here at Bloom, growing the flowers I know exist in my heart. They still have thorns on the vines, but now, watered and in the sunshine, they bloom. Truly. Full of colors, passion, and brightness.

When I shared my first story, there were no comments. No reaction from anyone, not even in Bloom. I’m not quite familiar with everyone there yet. Still, my heart was heavy, full. Not from hurt or sadness, but with pride. Even though it’s likely nobody has read my work, I hope there is someone out there who feels the hurt and emotion within my writing.

From now on, when I write, I know that I'm not just writing for myself. There are hundreds, thousands of military kids and teens out there like me, even adults who know the feeling of a nomadic life. The one thing I can do is to continue writing. Not just for them, but for me as well. My writing helps me discover more about myself, the thoughts on who I am, the kid I once was, and the person I hope to be. I will continue nurturing these late-blooming flowers, and I will watch them flourish in the later years.