Hard Times

By adina
When my family first told me that we were moving to England, I was devastated. The idea of leaving behind everything I had ever known—my friends, my school, my street, my entire way of life—filled me with fear. Albania had always been my home, and although life there was not always easy, it was familiar. I couldn’t imagine starting over in a completely different place, a country I had only seen on TV or heard about from relatives who had gone abroad.

I didn't want to leave. I cried the night before we left, clutching a photo of my best friend and me at school, both of us smiling with our arms around each other. I felt like I was leaving a part of myself behind. But my parents reassured me that this move was for the best—that we were going to a place where we could all have a better future.

When we finally arrived in England, everything felt strange. The streets were different, the buildings unfamiliar, and the people spoke so quickly that I struggled to understand them. For the first few weeks, I felt like an outsider. I missed home terribly. I missed my language, my food, the smells of my neighborhood, and even the noise of the local market in Tirana.

But slowly, things began to change.

School here was different from what I was used to. Back home, we would finish lessons earlier in the day, but in England, school went on until three o’clock in the afternoon. At first, I didn’t like the longer hours, but I soon began to appreciate the structure. The subjects were interesting, the teachers were kind, and there were so many more options. I was surprised to learn that students here could go to university even if their families didn’t have much money. It was all about working hard, being determined, and not giving up. That gave me hope.

The thing that struck me most was the diversity in my new school. I wasn’t the only one who had come from a different country. In my class alone, there were children from Somalia, Bangladesh, Poland, Portugal, the Philippines, and many other places. I quickly realised I wasn’t alone in my journey. We all had stories, and we all had made sacrifices to be here. We had different backgrounds, languages, and cultures, but we were all learning together, laughing together, and growing up together.

I began to make friends, real friends who didn’t care where I came from or what my accent sounded like. They just liked me for who I was. We played football at lunch, helped each other with homework, and shared snacks from our different cultures. It was through them that I truly began to feel like I belonged.

It took time, but I have come to call England my home. The country that once felt so foreign now feels like a place where I have a future. I can see a path ahead that wasn’t so clear before. I want to go to university, maybe study medicine or engineering. I want to have a career that makes my parents proud and helps others too. I want to give back to the country that gave me a second chance.

Looking back, I realise that this story isn’t just about hard times. Yes, moving away from home was hard. Learning a new language was hard. Trying to fit in was hard. But those difficult moments taught me something important: that change, while scary, often brings opportunity. That the hardest experiences can lead to the most rewarding ones.

I’ve learned that life is full of unexpected turns, and while we can’t control everything, we can choose how we respond. We can fight, adapt, and grow. We can find beauty in diversity and strength in community.

So yes, I still miss Albania. I still remember my friends and the streets of my old neighborhood. But I am not sad anymore. I carry those memories with me, and I know they are a part of who I am. But I also look forward now—with hope and determination.

I called my story Hard Times, but perhaps that title doesn't tell the whole truth. This is really a story about the light that comes after the darkness, about the doors that open when others close, and about the courage to believe in a better tomorrow.