From Moving Vans and Empty Lunch Tables
Loneliness is not a verdict, it’s a season — and seasons change
9/19/20252 min read
Every time a moving truck pulled up in front of our house, I knew what was coming. Boxes stacked high, drawers emptied, walls left bare. We weren’t just moving our things — we were uprooting our lives again.
Virginia. Kansas. Louisiana. Texas. New Jersey. Alabama. Tennessee. Florida. The list felt endless. Each new state meant another cafeteria, another classroom, another set of faces that already knew each other’s secrets and inside jokes. Walking into a new school felt like walking onto a stage where everyone already knew their lines, and I didn’t even have the script.
At first, it was lonely. The cliques had been built years before, and I was always a late arrival. Empty lunch tables became familiar. My tray and I sitting in silence, wondering if anyone would ever slide into the seat across from me.
But here’s what I’ve learned: loneliness is not a verdict, it’s a season. And seasons change. God has a way of working slow miracles. In each place, after the ache of being overlooked, someone always noticed me. A smile, a shared laugh, an invitation. In Louisiana, it was neighbors who became family. In Florida, it was one girl whose friendship shone like sunlight — even if today she no longer keeps in touch, I still adore who she was in my life then.
And Texas? Texas gave me more than friends. Texas gave me my people. The kind of friends who don’t fade with time, whose families feel like your own, whose love is steady even when states and decades get in between. Texas was where I stopped being “the new girl” and finally belonged.
Not every stop was gentle. Tennessee was the hardest. The kids there were sharp in ways words can cut. Cruelty doesn’t always come in fists — sometimes it’s in whispers, in laughter behind your back, in doors slammed shut before you can even knock. But even then, I learned: rejection doesn’t get the last word. God does.
There is a friend who sticks closer than a brother. And sometimes, it takes wandering through many lunchrooms and empty seats to discover the ones who are truly meant for you.