This liquid that warms my throat tastes like the life I want. As I sip my coffee, sitting on the balcony, looking at the bluest of LA’s skies, I come to terms with this year. Sometimes, you need destruction to come up with something completely new. I did not want this, but here it is. What am I going to do with it?
I used to think life shouldn’t be defined at once. You didn’t “have to” be something forever. Your life didn’t “have to” be crystallized. You could reinvent yourself over and over again. In a way, this still holds true; but I underestimated the powers that be. I overestimated how much control we have over what happens to us. What really defines us is how we react to it. How many years till you break all that keeps breaking you? I’m fighting to rise up to the occasion.
In the process of resisting the storm, I’m discovering a lot about myself that I didn’t know. If only I don’t bend and break. I’m also looking at those who surround me in a different light. The things that used to bother me, the upsets, the rules, nothing applies anymore. In the grand scheme of things, life is one tortuous journey where goodness comes in pieces that must be cherished and appreciated.
I must finish this year in gratitude. Take my hand, not my picture. I’m grateful for having such a wonderful, supportive family, who will absolutely be there for me in any situation — who will tell me how much they love me and how they’ll always have my back. They are my treasure, and I’m blessed.
I’m grateful for my friends, new and old, who go out of their way to make sure I don’t fall off the cliff. Who text and call from afar, letting me know they’re thinking of me, letting me know I have a nest of love and friendship waiting for me at all times. I’ll forever be in awe of people who like me. I’ll try to be a better friend in the future. You deserve all of my heart.
I’m grateful for doing what I love. This profession I chose mentally when I was 9 and that I’m still doing. This job that allowed me to travel around the world and see wonderful things first hand.
I’m grateful for being at peace with my age, at last. Youth is not a quality, it is a state. It will evolve, and we must not attach too much meaning to it. I’m wiser, and I don’t regret the way I lived so far. I’ve got many regrets — what I did with my younger years is not one of them.
There is a certain freedom in failure. My fear, when I was in my twenties, was that I’d grow older alone. That I’d find myself in my late thirties unmarried, with no children, still unsure of what to do with my life. Helas, there I am. Divorced, with no children, absolutely no idea what to do with my life. So, now that what I feared has actually happened, I’m kind of free. The things I thought could go wrong went wrong.
But I’ll end with this: you can’t lose what you don’t have. I didn’t lose anything; I just haven’t gotten it yet.
Here’s to a brave new year. I will be better. I will be stronger. If you believe in nothing else, just keep believing in yourself.