2020: A Reflection

I wrote a letter similar to this at the end of 2019 reflecting my hopes for 2020. I thought it would be good to reflect again this year.

Dear 2020,

Every expectation I held in my heart going into this year shattered on impact.

I have experienced loss and sorrow so heavy I’ve started to feel like Sisyphus pushing the damned Boulder up the hill. Never reaching the top, and constantly falling back down the hill.

I have been through death, it’s grip so tight I choked on it.

I have felt the sadness of the world, pouring down like rain after a drought.

At the beginning of this year, I begged the world to let me thrive.

I held out my battered heart and soul and the world laughed.

I have sat in the dark in my bathtub, letting all the things left unsaid fill up the empty spaces.

I have screamed at the precipice, letting out the anger that festered and burned.

I have ached and cried and felt so many feelings and I fear that the last of my hope and innocence has been tossed to the winds.

I watched my superhero become mortal, a sight you will never forget.

I have watched friends slip away into vices they never knew they had.

I watched the world burn, with no end in sight.

I watched senseless murder happen, with no justice or peace given.

There is no doubt in my mind that this year has crowned us all kings/queens/rulers of despair, but even so there were spots of good.

Streaks of gold holding the world together, like kintsugi, the Japanese art of repairing pottery with gold to make it more resilient.

I watched people of every skin colour and background come together and fight for the rights of the oppressed.

I listened to their chants, demanding to be seen.

I watched kindness chains get tossed across the world through the internet.

I watched total strangers check in on each other and help keep their heads above water.

I watched myself grow to love my body, a body that has carried me through a lifetime of trauma and a pandemic.

I watched myself grow comfortable with my identity, and finally feel at home in my own skin.

I watched my father stare down death and defiantly say “not today”.

I watched so many people realize that they were fighters for peace, and lovers and artists and so much more.

I would normally set hopes for the upcoming year, but this time I’ve set none.

I do not wish to cast my hopes into the wind.

I do not wish for the world to see my tiny sprouts of hope I’ve been nurturing in secret.

I do not wish for anything.

With a final wave I cast out my collection of feelings and fears from the box they were packed in, leaving it empty and ready for new experiences.

To 2021 I say this:

I am ready.

I will take a deep breath, and then step across the finish line with my empty box, staring down the springboard for the new year.

Sincerely, Me